


Shattered Sanctuary

by AThousandWishes



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:20:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 69,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23093218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AThousandWishes/pseuds/AThousandWishes
Summary: What if Jason had accompanied Roy to Sanctuary?What if Jason had survived?  This is the story of how Jason and the Bat family cope with the aftermath.Also, I'm ignoring Dick/Ric.  It didn't happen in this universe.
Comments: 161
Kudos: 299





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer and notes: I do not own DC Comic characters in this fanfiction. It was written for fun and I received no money for writing it. Scenes from several comic books were referenced and used in writing this fanfiction as well. As of this first chapter, I plan to mainly focus on Jason Todd and the what if he had joined Roy Harper at Sanctuary plot bunny. I will mention or have a few scenes of the detective work to solve the Sanctuary case as it was in the comics. The only change will be Red Robin investigating in Batman’s place. The main bulk of the story will be, as stated, about Jason Todd and what happens with him after the accident. I’m also ignoring the Ric Grayson/Dick Grayson shot in the head story line.

Readers, 

When I first posted the first two chapters of this fanfiction, I received some comments about this fic and its ties to RHatO #24-25, where Red Hood shoots Penguin and Batman in turn beats the snot out of Red Hood. In the beginning, I had not planned on writing too much about the Penguin event in this story. It was basically just a fanfiction born out of the thought of _what if Jason went with Roy to Sanctuary and he survived..._

I knew that I would have to address the Penguin incident to some degree. But this fic was not a “fix the problem with Batman beating up Red Hood for shooting Penguin.” Also, I tend to take what I want from comic books with a grain of salt. In my opinion, one of DC’s huge glaring problems is that editors do not do a good job of making sure writers stay true to characterizations of their main heroes. Is Jason insane or has he finally gotten a handle on his pit crazy self? Is Batman a grumpy hateful person (Frank Miller) or is he more caring but emotionally awkward when dealing with those he loves (Devin Grayson)? 

I prefer a more caring but emotionally awkward Bruce Wayne/Batman. That’s how I write him in my fanfiction. Even when I am including comic canon where Batman has been written more in a Miller style, I just ignore that characterization or down play it. It’s how I’m writing him here in this story. 

With that said, if you want a beat down or want a story where Bruce will be vilified for his actions in RHaTO #24-25, this will not be a story for you. You don’t have to read it. You don’t need to tell me how much my story stinks or sickens you. Kindly move along. 

However, the Penguin incident has become more involved than I had originally planned. It is being dealt with by Bruce and Jason...just at a slow pace. But it’s there. 

This is my story to write. It is a story that keeps evolving. There have been several times I’ve thought one or two more chapters and I will be finished...and then something else pops up to be resolved. It’s how I write. I don’t do out lines. I just write and see where it takes me. If you would like to come along for the ride, terrific! Hop aboard! Leave me a kudos or comment if you like it. If you don’t want to read my story or don’t like it, that’s okay too. You do not have to do anything. Please don’t be mean and leave comments that tear me down by telling me how much you don’t like it. I’m a fanfic writer writing fanfiction for my entertainment and I’m willing to share. I’m not making money and you don’t have to read it, so I’m not looking for criticism. 

Hopping off my soapbox! To those reading, I hope you enjoy the story!

Kudos!

Now on to the story...

Shattered Sanctuary 

Chapter One 

Superman approached the farmhouse known as Sanctuary with growing dread and a heavy heart from the carnage he had already witnessed outside in the surrounding wheat field. 

“I’m at the entrance to Sanctuary,” he reported over the comm link to Batman and Wonder Woman. “No sign of the Greeter. No reaction at all.” Pushing slightly on the door that was already somewhat ajar, he continued, “Going inside. Will check on…” Sucking in his breath, he stared down at the two bodies he found just inside the house. His heart stuttered a few beats before he managed to make his mouth work again. “Roy…Roy and W-W…” Superman decidedly switched tactics and did his best to remove personal sentiment out of his thoughts and voice. He woodenly responded, “Arsenal and Flash are…confirmed.” 

As Superman knelt beside the pair of young men he had known for so long, his forced detachment waivered. He had watched them grow up from boyish sidekicks to strong, brave men. Wally, a confident hero, carrying on a legacy that made everyone so proud. Roy, who had struggled against personal demons, was now focusing on putting his life back together with the tenacity of a bulldog that left everyone assured the archer would come out victorious in the end. 

Lost in his thoughts and growing grief, Superman almost didn’t discern the faint pulse coming from the field just outside the kitchen door to the rear of the house. As it slowly dawned on him what his ears were hearing, he immediately focused his attention toward the source. Within seconds, he was there, in the backfield about sixty feet from the back porch of the house, crouched beside another body. Hoping beyond hope that his eyes and ears were not playing tricks on him, he sucked in a gasp at the faint heartbeat and shallow, raspy breaths of the injured young man. 

It took Superman a moment to recognize the dark-haired man dressed in civilian clothes—red hoodie, blue jeans, and sneakers. Blood oozed out of his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. Superman wanted to remain professional, to distance himself yet again, and allow himself and his colleagues to remain focused. However, as he realized this survivor’s identity, there was no way personal emotions would be kept at bay. 

“We’ve got a confirmed survivor…it’s…Bruce, it’s Jason. He needs immediate medical attention—but he…he’s alive!” Gently lifting the injured man, Superman asked, “Where should I take him? His injuries are…extensive. Massive internal bleeding.” 

*** 

Batman spent years perfecting his ability to effectively remove himself from intense and personal situations when facing a crisis, whether it be within the Bat family or the greater hero community. However, it was hard not to think of the two young heroes that were close friends and old teammates of his oldest son…Dick would be devastated by the loss of both Wally and Roy. Then the thought entered his mind about his second son, Jason. Over the past few tumultuous years, Jason had formed a close bond with Roy Harper. The two had come together as troubled ex-sidekicks with a world of baggage and had helped each other carry the load. As much as Dick would be devastated over Roy’s death, Jason would be lost. 

Steering the Batwing ever closer to Sanctuary, Batman began to deliberately distance his feelings. It would do no one any good if he allowed personal emotions to interfere with the investigation and hopeful resolution of this crisis. Superman suddenly broke into Batman’s mental hold. 

“We’ve got a confirmed survivor…it’s…Bruce, it’s Jason. He needs immediate medical attention—but he…he’s alive!” 

Jason. His willful son. The one who always ignored danger, spat at risk and was never frightened enough. Out of all his Robins, Jason was the most dramatic, emotional, and temperamental. Yet, this boy...this young man possessed such a heart of gold, driving him to be a protector of the weak and forgotten. Jason, the son Bruce had lost and was slowly gaining back. 

“Where should I take him? His injuries are…extensive. Massive internal bleeding.” 

Batman would love nothing more than to tell Superman to take his boy home, to the safety of the Cave and the careful attentions of Alfred—but as good as Alfred was at patching up wounds, he was not a doctor or a trauma unit. He knew the Watchtower had a state-of-the-art med-bay, with a ready team of the world’s best trauma experts on hand at all times. His son deserved nothing less than the best. 

“Watchtower.” 

“Copy,” Superman stated. 

At this point, Bruce was conflicted. He knew as a detective he would be needed at the crime scene. There were multiple casualties and time was always of the essence when investigating murders. As soon as word got out among the hero community, too many hands would be all too willing to “help” find the one or ones responsible, which would only hinder any true detective work. 

But Jason…Jason was fighting for his life and Bruce wanted to be there for his son. He did not want Jason to feel abandoned or forgotten. After all, Jason’s feelings of abandonment, the thought that he had been forgotten and replaced, the overall emotion that he had not mattered to his family, those issues had been the driving wedge between Jason and Bruce in the first place. Only within the last year had Bruce and Jason really started to build an uneasy trust back…until Penguin. 

Penguin. Oswald Cobblepot. Jason had shot him. Point-blank. In public. Fragile trust shattered by a bullet. 

Bruce had been livid. After all they had worked towards. After the speech Jason had made about wanting to be accepted back, to regain his place in the family so much that he had been willing to not use lethal force, siting his respect for Batman and what that symbol stood for in Gotham. Then he had pulled a 180 and had publicly gone against exactly all Batman held dear. Bruce had not handled it well. He was hurt. If it had been anyone outside of the family, Batman would have taken the offender down and turned them into the GCPD. He would have done it efficiently and without emotion. But it was Jason. He couldn’t turn his son in like a common criminal. The Bat family had found out the hard way that Arkham and Blackgate were not the answer to helping Jason. So, Batman had dealt the punishment. It was harsh and cruel and without any pity or mercy. After it was all over, after the blows had ceased and Bruce was able to sit back and reflect, he realized that his emotional and physical outburst was not the right answer either. He was still hurt and angry, but he was able to see that something else had been happening that night as well. Something about Jason was off. His son had not fought back with his normal gusto. He had even taunted Batman to attack him, by mentioning Joker. Then Jason had done nothing to defend himself or go on the offensive. If it had not been for Roy… 

Roy Harper. Dead. 

Jason would be so lost. 

“I’m going to the Watchtower.” Batman suddenly realized he had spoken out loud. 

“I believe that is wise and good,” Wonder Woman answered, softly. 

“I’ll contact Red Robin. He is as good as a detective as I am. He can help investigate and be objective. Nightwing…would be too close…too compromised. But Red Robin and…and Batgirl…I’ll contact them.” Batman turned the Batwing around and headed back toward Gotham. 

“I’ll set up the perimeter and keep everyone out. Tell Red Robin and Batgirl that I will await their arrival,” Wonder Woman acknowledged. 

*** 

Red Robin was in the middle of chasing a low-level street thug who had stolen a purse off of a little old lady three blocks over. As he turned the corner into a dead-end ally, he skidded to a stop to look up at the perpetrator desperately climbing a fire escape in order to get away from the masked vigilante. Red Robin just watched with a smirk on his face. He knew what...or rather who was waiting on the rooftop. 

The perp flopped over the lip of the roof breathing hard from the chase through the streets below and his hasty climb up the metal ladder on the side of the apartment building. He didn’t hear anyone following him up and assumed he must have lost whatever Bat kid that had been in pursuit. Really, how many kids did the Bat have? Gotham City truly had a huge Bat infestation problem! Laying his head back against the bricks and gasping air, the young man closed his eyes and placed an arm across his body to hold his aching side from his desperate run. A shadow fell across his face. Looking up, he cursed and then sighed before muttering, “Just can’t catch a break.” 

Orphan looked down at the thug and cocked her head in curiosity. 

“This is the part where you hit me...really hard...and I’m going to lose some teeth...and have a broken nose...and find myself tied to a streetlamp...waiting for the GCPD to show up...and haul my butt down to the station,” the thief sputtered out between breaths. Closing his eyes and wincing, he finished, “Might as well get it over with.” 

“Give it back,” Orphan ordered firmly. 

Cracking an eye, the man sputtered, “Give it...? The purse? Give the purse back?” Swinging it around and holding it out to Orphan, he said, “Yeah, sure, here...take it!” 

Once Orphan had reached out and taken possession of the purse, she moved closer to the man, leaning in nose to nose. The thug’s eyes widened in terrified surprise as he felt the vigilante’s finger poke into his chest. “Get job. Live honest.” 

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, easier said than done. When you’re born in the Narrows with only the streets for your education, well you grow up and get whatever job you can, whether it’s honest or dirty...as long as it pays for your next meal.” 

Even though her mask covered her whole face, Orphan’s frown was clearly visible. “Can you read?” 

“A little.” 

A business card was thrust into his face. It was plain white with only a number on it. “Call. Get job.” The young woman huffed, “Food tastes better after honest work.” 

Turning the card over in his fingers and looking up suspiciously, the thug questioned, “So that’s it? No broken nose...no getting punched...just a card and a pep talk?” 

“Broken nose and punches next time you steal. I’ll be watching,” Orphan snarked and pointed two fingers at her eyes and then toward the puzzled man. Then she turned and ran to the edge of the building, where she jumped and disappeared into the night. 

*** 

Orphan landed silently next to Red Robin who was casually leaning against the brick exterior of the alleyway. “Gave the old honest living speech again, didn’t you?” 

Orphan shrugged as she swung the recovered purse over her shoulder and began to stroll in the direction where the mugging had taken place. 

“You know, WE can’t hire every single petty crook and sob story here in Crime Alley,” Red Robin stated with a sigh. “I mean, there’s only so many drivers, custodians, and general maintenance positions available before the company becomes more of a charity than a business...and you just can’t run a company that way. We do a lot of good, but that’s only possible if we are making a good profit as well.” 

“Batman gave me cards to help others. He is happy to help,” Orphan stated firmly, as she continued to walk briskly down the sidewalk. 

Red Robin fell into step beside her. “That’s because Batman ironically has a bleeding heart. He doesn’t want anyone to know it, but he can’t help himself. I mean, just look at all of us! I bet if we brought home a kid with some heartbreaking story every night of the week, we would soon have to build another wing onto the manor.” 

“And clone Agent A.” 

“Ha!” Red Robin barked out. “Yes! That’s a given!” Then muttered more thoughtfully, “We should probably do that anyway.” 

Orphan gave him a sharp look. 

“What?” Red Robin questioned, a bit chagrinned. “You’re the one who mentioned it.” 

After returning the purse and helping the elderly lady home, Red Robin and Orphan headed off to a nearby rooftop and were about to split up patrol routes when their comms beeped indicating an incoming call. “Red Robin.” Batman’s voice sounded a bit more grim than usual. 

“Here, Batman. What’s the news?” Red Robin knew that Batman had gotten an emergency call from Sanctuary, the mental health shelter and rehab home for the superhero community. In case of a breech in security or some other type of emergency, a call was automatically sent out to Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman. When the trio had tried to reach out to the program’s Artificial Intelligence at Sanctuary, there had been nothing but silence. Without hesitation, Batman had taken off in the Batwing to rendezvous with his colleagues at the disguised farmhouse. It had been almost two hours since his departure. 

“There have been several...confirmed deaths. Some are...well known and at least one high ranking Justice League member.” 

“What...What happened? How?” Red Robin managed to sputtered. 

“We’re not sure yet...That’s why I’m calling. I’m asking you and Batgirl to go...help Wonder Woman and Superman with the investigation,” Batman sounded conflicted as he spoke. 

Confused, the younger hero asked, “It sounds like you aren’t going to be there...am I right?” 

“Affirmative.” 

Something about the emotionless answer sent a cold shockwave through Red Robin. “Who were the confirmed deaths, Batman?” 

“Not over the comms. I’ll meet you at the Cave in 30. Batman out.” 

Turning to Orphan who had listened in silence, Red Robin bit his lip before saying, “I think this is bad news...like someone we know...someone close to us was there. Batman was too cold...too short with answers...and if he doesn’t trust himself to investigate without being emotional...it’s bad news, Cass. Bad news.” 

*** 

He was oddly numb. HIs body felt heavy and tired. He knew if he _could_ move, it would bring about tremendous pain throughout his whole being. It was like his joints and all his bones and organs were waiting to scream out at the slightest of motion. But he couldn’t move...not even an eyelid. He could hear though. The sounds were muffled as if he were underwater. He could faintly hear movement around him. Voices tinged with urgency. Machines beeping and hissing. If only he could open his eyes. He wanted to see...to know what happened to him...what was happening to him. His brain was too fuzzy to remember or to know. 

So, he waited numbly, as he listened and wondered. 

*** 

Bruce sat down heavily in front of the large computer in the Batcave. He had just finished talking to Alfred, who had hurried upstairs to pack a few items for Bruce to take to the Watchtower. He had also been contacted by Superman. After arriving at the Watchtower with Jason, Superman had been informed by Lois of an email sent to her from an anonymous source stating that Booster Gold and Harley Quinn were present at Sanctuary and should be investigated. Both Booster Gold and Harley had been seen in a Nebraska town not ten miles from the murder scene, battling it out with each other. Bruce filed that information away, ready to pass it on to Red Robin and Batgirl upon their arrival. However, there was one other pressing matter to take care of before he could zeta to the Watchtower and be with Jason...he needed to make a phone call. 

The phone rang a few times before it was answered by a cautiously, cheery voice, “Bruce? What’s up?” 

“Dick, how have you been?” 

“Still pretty good...nothing’s changed since your last phone call...oh...seven hours ago. So seriously, what’s up?” Dick asked. The younger man knew something was either really wrong or really great for Bruce to call so soon after his last communication. 

Bruce sighed knowing that he was about to give his son devastating news. “There was a security breech at Sanctuary.” 

“What?” Dick breathed, alarmed. “What kind of security breech?” 

“That’s still under investigation...we do know that something or someone was able to kill at least a dozen capes and seriously injure one...two others are at large and wanted for questioning.” 

“Twelve...twelve of ours...dead?” Dick inhaled deeply. “How’s that possible? Who could...? Who are the casualties?” He was already seeing faces of friends that he knew frequented the safe haven and praying each one was not among the dead. 

“I want you to meet me at the Watchtower,” Bruce answered, trying to avoid the question. He didn’t like the idea of Dick being alone when he received the news of two of his oldest and dearest friends’ deaths. 

“Bruce, answer me,” Dick demanded, an edge to his voice. “Who were the twelve? And who’s been seriously injured?” 

“I think it would be best...” 

“I’m not a child anymore! I’m a grown man and I can handle bad news...even upsetting news. If I’m going to be hurt and grieving, I’d rather shed my tears in private and have my break down without being gawked at by whoever’s on the Watchtower.” Dick reigned in his irritation and breathed out, “I’ll be okay, Bruce. Trust me.” 

Bruce closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead as if nursing a headache. “Wally and Roy...along with Poison Ivy.” 

There was silence for a time and Bruce almost spoke, thinking he might need to say something of comfort, but not sure what that might should be at the moment. 

However, Dick was the one to speak first. “Those three were part of the twelve dead?” 

“Yes,” Bruce simply answered. 

“And the survivors?” 

“Harley Quinn and Booster Gold are on the run. We’re not sure if it’s because of guilt or fear of what took place. Hopefully they will have some answers.” 

Dick could tell that Bruce was still holding something back. His voice was too strained and edgy. As bad as the news of Wally and Roy had been to hear, he knew the worst was yet to come. He steeled himself as he asked, “Who’s the seriously injured?” 

“Jason. He’s at the Watchtower. I’m on my way there after I brief Tim and Barbara.” Bruce sighed, “I’ve asked them to help with the investigation.” 

“I see...you don’t trust me to be objective,” Dick accused, hurt oozing through his voice. 

“It’s not a matter of trust. I trust you completely. It’s...just...you shouldn’t have to try and be objective...you should be able to grieve freely without the need to swallow your emotions.” Then he added, “And I would like company...in case Jason...” Drawing an unsteady breath, he said, “He’s critical, Dick. I don’t know if he will...” 

“He’ll be okay, Bruce,” Dick stated firmly. “Jason’s a fighter. We all know that.” After a short pause, Dick said, “I’ll meet you at the Watchtower as soon as I’m able...just...I’m going to take a bit to process this...to...I’ll be there when I can.” 

*** 

Dick sat staring out of his apartment window, his mind wandering back to years ago when he was younger and leading a team of friends. They were all so naïve of what the future would bring...full of hope...innocence. Sometimes he longed for those days where his biggest worry or fear was that Bruce would ground him from his Robin duties, after pulling off some crazy teenage stunt he’d dare to get caught up in with his two best buds. Usually, it was Roy’s fault and Wally’s insisting that led Dick into misfortune. Those two teammates were a weird mix of getting him in and out of trouble. They had been as much a part of Dick’s life as Bruce and Alfred. 

The years had not necessarily been kind to any of them. But life was never easy in the world of capes and heroes. Unfortunately, Roy had dealt with his hardships by turning to drugs and alcohol. It had been a rough and lonely road that saw the young archer distancing himself from his friends and family. Dick would reach out occasionally, but it was never the same comradery as before Roy’s fall from grace. He was thankful that Jason and Roy had formed a close friendship, even though at times he was admittedly a bit jealous as both a brother of Jason and a friend of Roy. Dick knew that those two kept each other on the right path as much as possible. He could live with a bit of jealousy. 

Wally was different. Dick had kept in close contact over the last few years. They were as tight as brothers. Even with everything going on with the Bat family, Dick had taken the time to help Wally, who was floundering with the loss of Linda and their twins. His speedster friend could not reconcile this new life with the old one that Wally alone could remember. It was a devastating blow. 

Dick took in a shuddering breath and slowly released it. Roy’s troubles were over. Wally’s tailspin had ceased. But for Dick Grayson, his life was still in turmoil and had just notched up several degrees. He felt like crisis crashed into crisis that slammed into crisis which smashed into crisis in a vicious never-ending cycle of hurt, confusion, and pain. Sometimes he just wished the merry-go-round of emotions would just slow down enough so he could jump off. Instead, it just kept speeding up. 

*** 

It was a rare occurrence. Barbara Gordon stood flabbergasted before Bruce Wayne. Never had she ever dreamed that this man would voluntarily step away from a major investigation, especially one that involved the Justice League in such an intimate manner. 

“So exactly why are you not getting involved?” She questioned, a bit warily. 

Tim Drake shifted his feet uncomfortably as he stood beside her. “It has something to do with the identities of the casualties and survivors...right, Bruce? That’s why you haven’t been so eager to share that information just yet.” Tim had returned to the Batcave over 15 minutes ago, but he had not been able to pull anything more than what he already knew from Bruce. His adoptive father had simply said to wait for Batgirl. The young man knew that when Bruce was secretive, it more than likely meant something very personal and painful was involved. “So who is gone? Who’s been hurt? Is it Dick?” 

“No,” Bruce stated, rather quickly. “No, not Dick. He’s fine. I spoke with him just before you returned. He will be meeting me at the Watchtower soon.” 

“Then who?” Tim pressed. 

Handing over a print-out of a list of names, Bruce spoke, “Here is the casualty list. You’ll note the names at the top...Wally West, Roy Harper, and Pamela Isley. The others...people who are just as important...but not with close connections to us as those three.” 

Barbara gasped and placed her hand over her mouth. “Oh no!” 

Tim frowned as his eyes read and reread the names. He understood that Bruce wanted reliable help and great detective work on this case. It was significant to know who or what could have taken out seasoned and high-level capes, without so much as a warning or distress call. But he was still troubled by Batman’s lack of direct involvement. Yes, he was somewhat close to Wally...yet, Tim was probably just as close. Roy was a tad bit more distant. Was it Poison Ivy that had Batman so rattled? Batgirl had worked more closely with Pamela and been more involved with her _turning over a new leaf_. Why would Batman want to distance himself? Something was still not being disclosed. 

“What about the survivors? You mentioned there were three.” 

Bruce nodded, “Two are at large. Booster Gold and Harley Quinn. Perhaps they can provide answers once they are brought in for questioning.” Bruce took a deep breath before continuing. “The other survivor is in critical condition and has been taken to the Watchtower. That’s where I will be going in a few moments.” 

Stepping forward, Tim tilted his head to the side. “Who?” he demanded, tired of Bruce’s secrecy. 

“Jason.” 

Barbara closed her eyes and muttered, “He must have been there with Roy.” 

Nodding in agreement, Bruce said, “I believe so. Jason has never been one to ask or go for help. It is a bit out of character...perhaps Roy convinced him to go along as support. I do know that Roy was with him in Gotham the last time I saw Jason...about two months ago.” 

“The Penguin incident?” Tim questioned. 

Bruce nodded again. 

“You don’t think after that...encounter...Jason might have been a bit more distressed than usual after one of your...disagreements,” Tim snapped, his voice tinged with a slight growl. He had understood Batman’s disappointment and even his anger. However, Tim was appalled at how Batman had handled the whole _Red Hood shooting Oswald_ _Cobblepot_ _on national television_ incident. It was a brutal beat down. Batman usually showed more mercy and care in apprehending his worst rogues than he had to Jason that night. 

Eyes narrowing at the young man, Bruce snarled back, “Jason used lethal force when Cobblepot had already been subdued. He was wearing the Bat symbol. What was I suppose to do?” Shaking his head and putting up his hands as if to ward off any arguments, Bruce calmed his voice and thoughts. “Regardless, I’m going to the Watchtower to be with him. He is...no matter his actions...part of this family...my son. I need to be there.” 

“You’re right, Bruce. I’m sorry. It’s not the time or place for that now.” Tim chewed on his lip a bit before saying, “Keep us informed on Jason’s condition. We will be keeping you in the loop as well.” Turning to Barbara, he said, “I’ll go prep the plane.” 

As soon as Tim had gotten out of ear shot, Barbara stepped forward and placed a hand on Bruce’s arm. “He’ll be fine. Jason is tough and you’re doing the right thing by going to him.” 

Bruce hummed in his way of acknowledgment. 

“We’re going to find out who did this and get the answers we need.” With a brave smile, Barbara added, “Tell Jason I expect to see him causing trouble again very soon.” She was rewarded with a soft snort and fleeting smile, as Bruce pulled on his cowl, patted her shoulder, and walked off toward the zeta tube. 

*** 

Superman stood in the hallway just outside of the OR in the Watchtower’s med-bay. He listened to the organized chaos of the room beyond the double doors. Due to the extensive damage to Jason’s body, the medical staff was overwhelmed and constantly assessing which injury needed their focused attention for the moment. It was obviously a mad rush to provide life-saving treatment. 

As the minutes ticked by in what felt like a slow slide into eternity, Superman let his mind wonder over what he could remember of the bloody scene back at Sanctuary. Bodies had been strown over the field, in the house, and then Jason had been by himself in the field back of the house. The injuries...the position of the bodies...he was not a detective like Batman, but he had been through enough battles to know at least some kind of blast or pulse had traveled with tremendous speed and force to maim and kill so many. Jason must have been the furtherest from the epicenter and therefore was able to survive it. 

He was curious about Harley Quinn and Booster Gold. How did those two play into all of this? Who was the mysterious informant that was emailing Lois? Before he could dwell on the perplexing situation, Batman entered the hallway and moved swiftly towards him. 

“Bruce!” Superman all but forgot protocol about secret identities in his relief at seeing his friend. “I believe the trauma team has gotten him stable for now...or at least it sounds that way.” 

Batman nodded, a little of the tension loosened around his mouth. “Thank you, Kal.” He stopped in front of the doors to the operating room with an uncertain look on his face. “He will be okay. He will be fine,” he whispered, as if trying to convince himself. 

Superman placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sure of it. Jason’s a fighter. Always has been.” 

“I know...everyone keeps telling me...reminding me...” Batman shook his head then rubbed his hand over his eyes. “But sometimes being a fighter is not enough...it wasn’t enough for him once before.” 

“Don’t give up on him. I know it’s not always easy for you, but have a little faith. Jason needs that right now.” His hand, still resting on Batman’s shoulder, squeezed ever so gently. “He needs all of us in his corner, pulling for him.” 

Batman nodded ever so slightly and then turned walking toward the waiting room area of the med-bay. 

*** 

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred...enough said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Penguin's conversation in italics is straight from RHatO #24.

Chapter Two 

Alfred Pennyworth was a man of quiet resolve and action. He was a behind the scenes worker, who needed little praise for his efforts, save for the knowledge that those he loved and cared for were safe and sound. Growing up British, Alfred had a great sense of duty and stoicism ingrained into him. It suited him well for the life he now lived at Wayne Manor surrounded by Batman and his birds. 

As he went about his daily responsibilities, the butler would allow himself to breath a prayer or two for the young men and women in his care. He was sensible enough and had lived to an age where he could concede that these people were his family. Bruce was his son. Dick, Jason, Tim, Cassandra, and Damian were his grandchildren. Barbara and Stephanie were more like nieces. He even considered Clark Kent as a nephew of sorts. It was a strange life, but one that he had come to cherish. 

He knew that as a grandfather figure he was privy to many secrets and indiscretions of the young people visiting and residing in the manor and cave below. He took his role as confidante seriously. As if a priest listening to a confession, he would give ear to the confider, only interrupting to offer a kind word or suggestion or ask a clarifying question. However, there were times when Alfred would initiate a conversation in order to advise a loved one and at the most desperate of circumstances, he would even use harsher tactics and demands to keep his family in line. 

It was two months ago that Alfred had found himself in such a situation. At Bruce’s side down in the Batcave, he had watched in shock as Red Hood had apparently shot an unarmed and subdued Oswald Cobblepot at pointblank range. While Alfred was appalled by what he saw, he also knew that Jason was not the pit-crazed teenager of a few years prior. The young man had come so far. His actions were seldom rash these days. His anger and temper were mostly kept at bay, only sneaking out through his snarky comments and exaggerated facial expressions. Although he could be provoked, it took a great effort to rile Jason into uncontrolled wrath. 

With this in mind, Alfred waited until after an outraged Batman left the Cave, and then he sat down and quietly replayed the video footage. It was then that he realized the exchange Jason had with Cobblepot shortly before the deafening gunshot...it was barely audible, fighting to be heard over the police sirens and crowd noise picked up on the coverage tape. 

_“I didn’t come here to listen to you say you’re sorry. To hear you beg for your life.” Jason sounded like he was barely holding back a raging fury. “I’m not going to arrest you just so some corrupt judge let’s you walk out of jail an hour later. I’m here to end this. Tonight.”_

_“Put the gun down, Red Hood!” A police officer yelled as he drew his_ _own_ _weapon._

_“Relax officers,”_ _Cobblepot_ _spoke in a mocking tone. “He’s harmless. Just another Bat Brat.”_

_Jason answered back in an_ _unwavering_ _voice, “I’ll let you in on a little secret,_ _Cobblepot_ _. I’m my father’s son.”_

_“Waugh?”_ _Cobblepot’s_ _confusion only lasted a heartbeat before he muttered, “Good on you, kid,” punctuated by the crack of a firearm._

After Bruce had returned home still ruffling from his encounter with Jason, Alfred gave the brooding Bat the silent treatment and icy cold shoulder for two weeks. During that time, Jason refused to answer his phone, but had assured Alfred through many text messages that he was with a friend and basically okay. At the end of those two weeks, Alfred was finally rewarded with a return call. He could tell that Jason was still nursing his injuries by the strain of his words. 

“Master Jason, may I inquire of your physical health?” 

There was a short, exasperated huff. Then Jason answered, “It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I’ll be fine in a few weeks.” 

Alfred hummed out his frustration. “At least tell me, you are receiving adequate medical care for your injuries.” 

“I’m not dying, Alfred. You don’t have to change the date on my tombstone just yet.” 

Even though he was highly aware the young man was using the jab as an effort to evade Alfred’s questions, the older man could not stop from admonishing, “Jason Peter Todd Wayne!” 

“Don’t! Don’t call me that...Wayne...” Jason spat back. “If that were true...if I were really...do you think Bruce would even dare treat Dick or Tim or forbid that little demonbrat the way he...” Taking a calming breath, he whispered with a pang of sorrow, “He didn’t even ask why.” 

Silence ruled for almost a full minute before Alfred cleared his throat and asked, “Why, Master Jason? Why _did_ you shoot Oswald Cobblepot?” 

A hysterical chuckle escaped from Jason. “That’s the thing. I didn’t. I didn’t shoot that scumbag.” 

“So there was another young man dressed up as the Red Hood, who shot Penguin?” 

“No, that was me. But I didn’t shoot him with a bullet.” Jason suddenly sounded much younger. “It was a blank. I shot a blank and the percussion busted his eye-spectacle thing. I knew he would probably lose his eye...the hospital records that Roy hacked says that a piece of glass lodged into his brain. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

“Why did you not tell Bruce when he confronted you?” 

“I don’t know. I was...angry...” 

“At Bruce?” 

“No.” Jason sounded confused as he stumbled, “Yes? I’m not sure. Maybe I was angry at everyone.” 

“My dear boy, I am not sure I am completely following you.” Alfred spoke in a gentle but firm tone. “I would like for you to tell me exactly what you were doing and why you behaved in such a manner. You have not acted out in anger or rashly in some time. What happened that caused all of this misfortune?” 

It was as if the dam broke. The whole sordid tale spilled out of Jason, detailing the discovery of how his biological father, Willis, had been framed by Cobblepot and sent to prison. He told Alfred about the letter from Willis that suggested the imprisoned man’s death had been faked and he had been taken to a secret facility where experiments were done to prisoners in exchange for freedom or an early release. Jason had gone so far as to dig up his father’s grave to find it empty. 

“I was so confused, Alfred.” Jason inhaled sharply before continuing. “Willis!,” he hissed the name out. “I thought I hated him! I _did_ hate him...maybe I still do. I just...I don’t want to feel... _feel_ for him! But those letters made him...human.” Jason’s voice cracked. “On top of all of that, Bizarro was going through some weird stuff and Artemis...I thought we were on a date, but instead it was all a ruse to talk about Biz and then the ship was going to explode and take out half of Gotham and in order to save everyone Biz and Artemis sucked themselves into another dimension or something. I don’t even know if they’re alive.” After a shuttering breath, he finished, “And there was Batman...all up in the middle of it. All anger and hurt and so ready to deal it out...and I just thought, maybe I deserved it. Maybe I caused all of this...” 

“No, my boy, you did not,” Alfred interrupted. “You know that is not true. You are not to blame for those circumstances.” After a brief pause, he conceded, “Well, perhaps pretending to shoot Cobblepot was not the most intelligent course of action, but you were hurting and when one is hurt, one’s actions rarely are thought out completely.” 

Another silence reigned before Jason said, “I’m still angry that Bruce came after me so hard. I get why. He thought I murdered someone, in cold blood. Heck, I even taunted him, knowing how much it would push his buttons. I wanted someone to hurt...and hurting Penguin didn’t help...and Bruce just made it so easy. And I just couldn’t care anymore at that time.” 

“You have always been quick to forgive, Master Jason. You have a generous heart. As for myself, I am appalled with Master Bruce, quite frankly,” Alfred confessed. “He has not had a warm meal since that night. Cucumber sandwiches and water, along with the occasional energy bar.” 

That got a real light-hearted laugh out of Jason. “You’re a riot, Alfred!” Sighing, the young man said, “Do me a favor. Don’t tell Bruce about the blank.” 

“You are your father’s son,” Alfred muttered in vexation. “Both of you have the communication skills of toad stools!” 

“Toad stools? What does that even mean? And we’re not that much alike,” Jason protested, but not with much fight in his tone. 

“He should be told. World’s Greatest Detective and he cannot figure out the difference between a bullet and a shard of glass! He needs to remember to ask questions and look for evidence like a detective and not be so quick to jump to conclusions.” 

“I’ll tell him. When the time is right,” Jason declared. “I probably won’t be back home for a while. I want to look into what really happened with Willis. But I need to take time to heal...not just physically. I’ve got to get my head on straight after all of this.” 

“I shall miss our visits,” Alfred disclosed. “However, I expect a weekly phone call or text to inform me of your well-being.” 

“Don’t worry, mom. I’ll call home,” Jason quipped, before saying his farewell and ending the call. 

Now two months later, Alfred sat in the kitchen of Wayne Manor, sipping tea and thinking back on that conversation. Perhaps if he had pressed Jason and Bruce into talking, into resolving the issue, Jason would have been home and not at Sanctuary. Perhaps he would not be fighting for his life on the Watchtower, but instead seated here in the kitchen having tea and keeping Alfred company. If only Alfred had disclosed what he knew to Bruce about Cobblepot and Willis and all of what Jason had been dealing with on that fateful day, maybe Bruce would have been kick-started into making amends with Jason. He felt old in that moment, sitting and dwelling on all the what ifs. 

“Alfred?” 

“Oh Master Dick, I did not hear you come in.” 

Dick came over and sat down at the table across from Alfred, noticing the older man’s sad expression. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, lad. Just a little weary.” Turning his attention full onto Dick, he inquired, “What about you, young man? How are you holding up?” 

“I think I’m still in shock. I just feel sorta empty.” He gave a bitter snort. “Haven’t even shed a tear. I probably should, but they just won’t come out.” 

Alfred reached over to pat Dick’s hand. “You’ve lost two of your oldest and dearest friends. You have a brother clinging to life. I would say that is enough on your plate, so do not add unfair expectations of how you should grieve upon yourself.” 

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick replied, with a melancholy smile. “What would we ever do without you?” 

“Grunt at each other like cavemen and starve, I am quite certain,” Alfred spoke, with a hint of sarcasm. “Now, what may I do for you before you leave for the Watchtower?” 

Dick broke eye contact with Alfred for a few seconds, seeming as if unsure of himself. Then he straightened his shoulders as a determined expression settled on his face. His eyes locked onto Alfred. “Tell me about Jason and Cobblepot. I know Jason and I know you...” Dick’s eyes narrowed at Alfred in a pointed stare. “I know you would have called him and I know that Jason would have confided in you about why he would risk everything, for no apparent reason. Tell me what happened.” 

*** 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Mostly Batman and his thoughts, but Nightwing shows up too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doctors and nurses on the Watchtower are mentioned in this fic. These medical professionals are employed by the Justice League. They have all been vetted and have agreed to allowing the mind-readers/mystic heroes place blocks within their minds, so these doctors and nurses will forget or just not fully comprehend secret identities. I tried wording it in this chapter, but it just didn't work out well. I hope this explains it.

Chapter Three

Jason had been moved out of the OR and into a room that was the equivalent of an intensive care unit. The room was small and glassed off so the nurses and doctors could easily observe the patient, but was also sound proof for privacy. The two lead trauma doctors, Dr. Marek and Dr. McGuffee, came out to speak to Batman about Jason’s injuries and his prognosis.

“It’s as if he were near an explosion of some kind. There were multiple internal tears and contusions to basically all major organs. It’s really a miracle he even survived at all,” Dr. Marek explained.

Nodding her agreement, Dr.  McGuffee continued, “We were able to stop most of the major bleeding. However, there are many smaller internal cuts and tears throughout his body, we simply cannot cauterize them all. He is receiving blood transfusions to help, but the next 48 hours or even longer will be very touch and go.”

Dr. Marek spoke up again, “Most definitely. We will be keeping him under sedation...a medically induce coma in order to limit movements that might cause further tearing and bleeding.”

“But we do encourage you to keep him company. We know that many people under sedation do hear loved ones and it helps with the healing process.” Dr.  McGuffee gave a soft smile. “He’s made it this far. He’s got a chance for a full recovery.”

Batman thanked the doctors and then made his way to the small room where Jason lay pale on his hospital bed. His skin was mottled with bruises caused by the damage of whatever had blasted through him. He was intubated, which was worrisome and comforting at the same time. Batman watched as Jason’s chest rose and fell to the hiss of the air being forced into his lungs and exhaled out. His pulse steadily beeped across the monitor that also showed his blood pressure, temperature, and oxygen levels.

The whole sight brought back unwanted images and memories. Batman had stood watch over all of his sons and silently pleaded with them to cling to life. Ironically, he had watched most of them die and return. Jason and Damian had taken a little longer to come back to him. Jason the longest...in not only a physical sense, but also mentally and emotionally. 

Taking a seat next to the bed, Batman rehearsed in his head everything he wanted to say to encourage Jason to fight his way back from the brink of death yet again. But any words he thought of seemed inadequate and awkward. He had always had this problem, since he was young and found that he could not match his thoughts to corresponding words that could be spoken in perfect articulation. Not after that night when he watched his world fall apart to the sound of gunfire, his father’s pained gasp, and his mother’s scream. The night he had kneeled down between his dying parents, surrounded by blood and pearls. Even though he had been unharmed in the alley that night, Bruce did suffer some sort of injury, something deep and cognitive. It had stunted his ability to use language to express even the simplest of emotional thought. He had trouble managing the most basic and practical social skills within a family unit or with close friends. 

He could fake Bruce Wayne, the socialite. He could fake Bruce Wayne, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He could even fake Bruce Wayne, philanthropist. But the real Bruce Wayne...the closest he ever came to being a real person was when he first took in a little circus kid. That hyperactive, cheerful boy had opened Bruce up in ways he never knew he could exist. And then the boy grew up. Dick Grayson had slowly started to drift away, until suddenly there was a wide chasm between them. At the time, Bruce was unable and admittedly unwilling to help bridge the gap and slowly the real Bruce began to fade away.

But then as fate would have it, another boy stole his way into Bruce’s life...quite literally. Jason was so different from Dick. Where Dick was easy going and trustful, Jason was hard-headed and cautious. Dick bounced off the walls of both Manor and Cave with excess energy. Jason curled up on the couch with a book or helped Alfred in the kitchen. Dick was a never-ending cascade of curiosity and questions. Jason was more of a listener but quite chatty on subjects that piqued his interest. 

However, there was one quality that both boys shared...they both were capable of drawing the real Bruce Wayne out. Dick had done it with his boyish exuberance for  life.  Jason’s approach was quite unique. Despite his initial caution, Jason steadily started to seek ways to engage Bruce and Alfred. He enjoyed scheming small things to make Bruce smile or laugh. He would gently needle Alfred in order to break the man’s stoicism, but never in a mean-spirited manner. This spunky boy grabbed Bruce’s heart in a distinct way.

And then Bruce had questioned Jason’s actions...the trust between partners, a father and his son, put to the test. He would have never questioned if Dick pushed a man to his death...he would have never needed to because Dick would have been horrified to even think of doing such a thing. But Jason Todd was not Dick Grayson. Jason had grown up in an abusive home and then lived on the streets. He came with a survival of the fittest mentality. The world young Jason knew was one where every day was a fight and if you didn’t fight, you died. He had been taught an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth lifestyle.

Jason never answered  Bruce’s question about how Felipe  Garzonas fell to his death. Was it an accident or was he pushed? It hadn’t mattered in the end. In less than a month, Jason had been  severely beaten and then blown up in a warehouse at the hands of the Joker. The real Bruce Wayne...Bruce Wayne, the dad, died along with his boy that day. There was no slow fading away, as with Dick. It was sudden and painful. There would be no coming back from that horrible fate. Even when Timothy Drake had pushed his way into the manor and Batman’s cave, the real Bruce had stayed dead and buried deep within the man. Even when Jason had come barreling back into Gotham with both guns drawn, Bruce could not dig himself out of his own grave. It had been the same with Damian, as well. Bruce tried. He really did. He cared. He just could not be a real person. He could not be a dad. All he had left was Batman and a fake Bruce Wayne persona.

“How’s he doing?”

Batman blinked hard, coming out of his thoughts. Turning his head, he watched as  Nightwing walked to the end of the bed, a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Critical, but stable for now.”

Nightwing nodded, his eyes on Jason’s face. “Alfred sent a few more items. Said Jason might want some good tea when he wakes up.”

Batman’s mouth twitched. “Alfred and his tea.”

“According to him, tea is the answer to world peace.”  Nightwing smirked, as he thought of the particular conversation in which Alfred had made such an argument.

“Might be worth the try,” Batman answered back.

“Truth,”  Nightwing quipped, setting the backpack down on the floor by the bed. “Any word on the investigation?”

“Harley is in custody. Batgirl has Skeets and is working on finding Booster Gold. She’s pretty sure Skeets is capable of tracking him.”

Nightwing ran his hand through his hair. “Have you checked with Blue Beetle? I mean, if I were in trouble and needed a friend...” He stopped and stared off for a minute. A small huff escaped his lips.

Batman scanned  Nightwing’s body language. He realized that the young man had nearly said if he were in trouble and needed a friend, he would go to Wally West. But now, that friend was no longer an option.

“Yeah, I would look into Blue Beetle if I were investigating,”  Nightwing finished, a slight strain in his voice.

The room grew quiet once again.  Nightwing moved to sit on the end of the bed opposite of Batman where he could glance over at his mentor and yet still be facing Jason.

“The doctors suggested talking to him. They said he could possibly hear and it may help him heal.” Batman spoke, hoping to break up the tense mood.

“ So what have you been discussing with him?”  Nightwing rubbed his thighs with his hands in a nervous gesture.

Batman shrugged, “Not much.” He glanced at Jason’s face. “What do I even say? The last time we saw each other...I was angry.” Thinking back to the moment he saw the Red Hood shoot Penguin at point blank range, Batman felt his hatred for guns and murder bubble up.  ”I don’t understand why he shot Penguin! He knew better. He agreed to stop killing. And then...he just...”

Nightwing turned his head to look squarely at Batman. He deliberately reached up and took off his domino mask. “I need you to listen.”

There were times that Batman knew not to argue with his oldest son. When Dick wanted to look you eyeball to eyeball, it was best to just comply. He pulled back the cowl and silently listened.

“I’m not going to tell you everything, because that’s for Jason to tell. But you need to understand that all is not as it seems. There were a lot of factors at play. When Jason wakes up,” Dick stopped and clenched his jaw, as if trying to rein in his emotions. Breathing deeply, he continued, “He is going to wake up. And he is going to need all of our support. You need to be able to truly be there for him. He has lost his best friend.” Dick’s voice cracked and his lip trembled. He turned his head away, but not fast enough to hide his watering eyes from Bruce.

“Dick...”

The younger man held up his hand to stop Bruce. After a few seconds, Dick looked back around, a few tears escaping. He swiped them away and continued, “It’s not as it seems, Bruce. Just be Jason’s dad. That’s all he needs. He needs you to be his dad.”

Standing up, Dick replaced his domino mask and placed a hand on Jason’s forearm. “Hey Little Wing, I’m going to find something to eat. Be back in a bit.” Then  Nightwing nodded to Bruce before leaving the room.

Bruce slowly replaced the cowl. He ran Dick’s words through his head. Jason needed his dad. It had been so long since he had been a dad to anyone. He had been a mentor. He had been a leader. He had been a partner. But Bruce Wayne the dad...could he even resurrect him?

***


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason starts to wake up...
> 
> SPOILER ALERT: Mentions events found in Robin: 80th Anniversary, story More Time. It's not a huge spoiler and I don't think it will take away from the original comic book story, but I want you to be aware in case you have not read it and do not want anything ruined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the very first scene I drafted when this plot bunny first attacked me a few months ago. The conversation starting with Jason asking Bruce "Where am I?" until the end of the chapter is what the whole fanfic has been written around. I've made a few adjustments here or there, but for the most part it has remained the same. I've got a couple of scenes etched out after this, but nothing big so I'm curious to know where this will lead and for how long. But I really am happy with how this chapter has turned out and I hope everyone enjoys it!
> 
> Just some references for comic book canon that is mentioned here in this chapter for those who may need or want them...  
> 1) I mention Jason's gauntlet (Bruce sets up for every Robin to go through a gauntlet, before they can officially be Robin) and some of the events that take place during the night of Jason's gauntlet are found in Nightwing Year One Part 5.  
> 2) Dick (as a young Nightwing) is in Gotham and decides to crash in his old room. Unknown to Dick or Jason is that Alfred decided to set Jason up in that same room (it's canon, but kinda weird on Alfred's part, but I'm using it). Anyway, a very tired Jason comes up to his room (Dick's old room) to climb in bed. Both Dick and Jason are quite surprised to find someone strange in their bed and then get into a physical fight over whose bedroom it actually belongs to.- RHatO Vol 2 Annual #1  
> 3) Red Hood's description of his brothers- Heroes in Crisis  
> 4) SPOILER for Robin: 80th Anniversary (only slightly so)...Jason gives Bruce something. I will give no more info on this one...But if you are a Jason Todd fan and have not read this jewel, you really need to go read it like now! It's AWESOME!!!! Anyway, I do not want to ruin it for anyone that wants to read it before reading this fanfic. - Robin: 80th Anniversary, story More Time

Chapter Four

Awareness came slowly and unconnected through the darkness. Jason would suddenly realize he was hearing voices or noises, only to have the sounds fade away again. Sometimes he could understand what was being said to him. Other times, he had no comprehension of what was being spoken or the words were disconnected, as if with static on a communicator with only sparse words filtering through to his consciousness. He would try to answer back at times, but could not seem to make his words form within his throat. Sometimes he recognized the voice, sometimes he could not match a name or face to the speaker. He listened though, curiously to the words and stories of those keeping him company in the dark...

***

“...and you thought that I was part of the gauntlet and I didn’t know what was going on. Poor Alfred had gotten himself kidnapped, dressed up and mistaken as Two-Face, and Bruce was shot to pieces and unconscious with Leslie. It’s really a miracle that anything went right for us that night. I’m just glad it did. Bruce and I were having our problems...it was never your fault, Jason. I should have been around more. If I had, well, I’ve always wondered if maybe you would have confided in me, instead of running off alone...”

***

“...did not know that you were injured. Father did not inform me of this cowardly attack on Sanctuary. He should have called straight away. I am an excellent detective, more so than Drake and Gordon. If you were awake, perhaps you would be able to explain what happened. It is commendable that you survived, since most of the others present were...”

***

“...Only here for a few minutes. I have to go back and help with the investigation, but I guess that’s the beauty of Zeta tube technology. Just needed to drop off some evidence and wanted to stop in and see how you were doing. This investigation is really strange. Nothing seems to be clicking or connecting right now. Whatever happened, I think it’s going to center around Flash...Wally...I don’t want to say anything to Dick yet. But Wally’s body is the only one with a different cause of death and it’s not in the same state of decay as the others. Heavy stuff. Not that you really want to hear about all of that right now. I’m rambling, I know. I really have to get going. Hang in there, Jason...”

***

“...get you set up here, Alfred. Can you see him?”

“Yes, Master Richard, I have an excellent view.”

“Well then, Jason, you’ve got a FaceTime call from Alfred.”

“Good evening, Master Jason. I am hoping you are able to come home soon. I will be sure to make you chili dogs and stock the freezer with Neapolitan ice cream and whatever else your heart so desires. Perhaps we can read a few Shakespeare plays or watch one on the telly. I hear the doctors are discussing the removal of your ventilator. Is that right, Master Richard?”

“I think they want to give it until tomorrow morning and then try. It seems most of the bleeding has stopped and his lungs are healing nicely.”

“Very good. Well, there you have it, Master Jason. You should be able to wake up soon enough.”

***

“...not good at talking. I know Dick believes I am avoiding  you.  Perhaps, I am. But I also know that the others talk to you. You need to hear them.  So I give them more time to sit with you and talk. I never know what to say...What do I say?”

***

“...shame that Pennyworth spends much of his time working around the Manor as a servant. He is so much more than that station. I have told Father we should acquire true and loyal servants  in much the same way as my mother and grandfather, which would allow Pennyworth to take his proper place in our family. After all, he has earned such an honor for bringing up Father when his parents were slaughtered. He should not be worked as a beast of burden...”

***

“...glad you finally got your own room. It was really awkward that night you came stumbling in and climbed in the bed with me. Really awkward! I didn’t know what to think! Not the greatest of meetings...I will say that I was curious why I had a bunch of old novels stacked up on my bedside table. Thought maybe Alfred was hiding out in my room or something...”

***

“...read a little to you. How about  Irish Red by Jim  Kjelgaard ? I remember you liked  Big Red . So, I’ll start...  _ Chapter One Muttonhead. Danny Pickett was mad clear through. Gingerly, he made his way _ ...”

***

“...remove the ventilator now. When we do, we will also be slowly decreasing the sedatives, allowing him to wake up. We encourage you to continue speaking to him and even touching his hands or arms, shoulders...anything to help him wake up. It’s critical for him to become conscious and aware in this stage of the healing process...”

***

“...good to see your eyes open. Do you know who I am? Where you are?”

Jason stared through the young man in front of him, unfocused.  _ Who? Oh, one of my brothers...the funny, nice one... _

_ “ _ You’ve been playing sleeping beauty for five days now.”

_ Sleeping beauty? Wasn’t she a princess? _ Jason thought he knew a princess.  _ Artemis? No, wait. Don’t call her a princess. She will hurt you. _

_ “ _ Stay awake for a bit, Little Wing. Maybe we can get Alfred on the phone.”

_ Alfred, he is the best. _ Jason lifted his hand up toward Dick. He wanted to say something, but it went out of his head as soon as he thought it.

Reaching over and grasping his hand, Dick gave a brilliant smile, unaware of Jason’s mental struggle. “You’re going to be alright, Jay. You gave us a scare. But you’re going to be okay.”

_ Tired. Going back to sleep. _ Jason closed his eyes as he felt Dick give his hand a gentle squeeze.  _ Tell Alfred I’ll talk to him in the morning. _

***

“...not sure you are really aware. Your eyes remain unfocused. I suppose it is better than keeping your eyes closed.”

Jason sighed mentally.  _ This conversation is going nowhere. _

“I wonder if you are even hearing me or capable of recognizing me.”

_ You’re the obnoxious, little demon brat. How could I forget? _ Jason kept his eyes staring at the ceiling.

“Well, if you are cognizant, you should know that Drake and Gordon have been unable to solve this travesty. The official count is thirteen heroes murdered. I am most grieved that Father did not ask me to help investigate. Drake is probably in over his head.”

_ Tim? Over his head? How could that be? He’s the smart, loyal one. _ Jason wished Tim was the one talking to him.

“Father has been nothing but a mixed-up bag of emotions. He always behaves this way when you are involved, Todd. He does not know how to approach you.” Damian huffed. “You can be very...confusing.”

Jason was confused.  _ What is this little snot talking about? It’s giving me a headache. _ With that thought, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall back asleep.

***

“...wore it to the conference I attended in Metropolis last week. Lucius went with me and he noticed it and recognized it. I was really touched that you remembered that...”

_ What are we talking about? What did I remember? I forgot... _

_ “ _ When I think back at that birthday when you first gave it to me, you were such a good kid, Jason. Even after all you had been through, you were so good.” Sitting in a chair beside the bed, Batman leaned over and looked down at his hands. “You’ve got a really good heart, Jason.”

_ Good heart...did I forget about my good heart or did you, Bruce? _

_ “ _ T hat watch...my father’s watch...it is one of the best presents I’ve ever been given. Thank you.”

_ Oh, the watch... _

_ “ _ Of course, you being here awake and healing...making a full recovery would be a great present as well.”

_ Awake? Am I awake? Maybe...  _ Jason blinked a few times.  _ Focus. Focus and stay awake. _

Batman seemed to notice the change in Jason’s consciousness. Leaning forward, he questioned, “Jason? You’re awake? Are you hearing me?”

Shifting a little, Jason moved his eyes around the room, taking in his surroundings consciously for the first time. “Where...where am I?” Jason managed to gasp out, voice so weak that he could only manage a few words at a time.

“The Watchtower, in the med bay,” Batman answered, relief evident in his tone, as he stood up to edge closer to the bed. He placed a hand on Jason’s forearm.

Jason blinked hard again, confusion clear on his face. “What...happened? Why am I...here?”

“What’s the last thing you remember? Where’s the last location you can recall?”

The young man’s eyes roamed the ceiling above as he tried to conjure up his most recent memories. Suddenly he paled even more than Batman thought possible. “Penguin...” Jason brought his tired gaze back to Batman. His breathing quickened as he asked in whispered panic, “Am I. ..are you sending me back...to  Arkham ?  Blackgate ?”

“No, Jason. No, son. That was over 2 months ago.” Batman felt a stab of guilt at the young man’s alarm. “You don’t remember what happened after that? Where you went?”

“Roy? I think...I was with Roy. He...he was going to...” Jason closed his eyes, trying to think of the name Roy had called it. “Sanctuary...said it was a rehab...of sorts...for capes.” Fuzziness, overwhelming exhaustion, and the deep ache that encompassed his entire body were beckoning Jason back into unconsciousness . But he fought against it, trying his best to think back on what could have happened to land him injured in the Watchtower med bay. Taking a shaky breath, he continued, “Roy was...struggling...again...with alcohol. Said he...could sober up...and I could...work on my...communication skills. Claimed I was...too much...of a bat.”

Batman hummed and his lips quirked ever so slightly. After a beat, his usual serious expression returned. “That’s where we found you...and the others.”

“Others?” Jason questioned.

“Yes,” Batman affirmed. “Something happened there, some kind of an attack. Red Robin and Batgirl are investigating with a few other League members. They are getting close to an answer, but something terrible...something deadly happened at Sanctuary. Thirteen casualties and three known survivors...Harley Quinn, Booster Gold, and you.”

“Me...” Jason muttered.

“Yes.” Staring down intently, Batman added, “You were the only injured survivor. In fact, Harley Quinn and Booster Gold are in custody and being questioned now.”

“Only three...” Jason seemed to be slowly making the connections. “Roy? He was...one of the thirteen?”

“I’m sorry, Jason.” Batman reached over and placed his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I know he was a good friend.”

Tears flooded Jason’s eyes. He took an unsteady breath. “How?” he asked, knowing there was no answer as of yet, having heard all that Batman had already spoken. “I don’t...understand.”

“I’m sorry, son.”

“Who else?” The young man shook his head. “Who else...were casualties?”

“Commander Steel, Blue Jay, Solstice, Kid Devil, Hot Spot, Nemesis, Gunfire,  Gnarrk , the Tattooed Man, Lagoon Boy, Poison Ivy, and Flash...Wally West,” Batman rattled off, only faltering at the last two names.

Jason closed his eyes and turned his head away. “I didn’t know Pamela...was there. Roy suspected Wally...told me he thought...Wally was there.” Gazing back around to Batman, Jason still weak and struggling to speak, asked, “Why Red Robin...and Batgirl? Why aren’t you...investigating?”

“Because I’m here, with you.”

“But you hate me. Why are you...here with me?” Jason’s eyes narrowed as his brow knit together like he was working a puzzle. “What about...the mission?”

Batman had done so many things wrong when it had come to this wayward son. So many mistakes and misunderstandings. So much hurt and pain. He thought back over the past year and how hard Jason had worked to gain back his family’s trust and how tough and demanding Batman had been on the young man. But Jason had not complained. He had risen up to the challenge. Even when Batman had given him every excuse to turn away, to give up on rejoining the Bat family, Jason had persevered. Even when Batman had dragged him to Ethiopia and ripped open old wounds, Jason had returned to help his adoptive father bring Damian, the youngest son, home. With shame, Batman thought back on his last contact with Jason...what Batman had done and said to him... As he regarded his prodigal son, Batman made a determined decision...it was time to bring this son home as well. It was time to let Jason know, beyond any doubt, that he was part of the family and Bruce would do anything...anything to keep him there. It was time to beg for forgiveness and hope that Jason would give him another chance to be his father.

Batman reached up and removed his cowl. He placed his hand gently on top of Jason’s head, burying gloved fingers in the dark curls. “I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you, not for one second. And today, you were the mission,” Bruce spoke with gentle conviction.

The tears that had been gathering in Jason’s eyes since the news of Roy’s death suddenly spilled over. A sob tore at his throat and his breathing became unsteady with it. For a moment, he shook his head and stared slack jawed at the man standing beside his bed. Jason didn’t know what to think or say. Bruce’s words...it was as if he were dreaming. To be told that he mattered more than anything or anybody else. That Jason was important enough to be the number one priority in that moment? Could he be hearing correctly?

“What?” Jason managed to whisper.

“I know I don’t deserve it. I know that I’ve lost the right to even ask,” Bruce choked out. His own eyes were beginning to water as he continued, “Jay, I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. I was told I needed a Robin after you died, to keep me grounded...to keep me from going too far. But Robin...that’s not who I lost. I didn’t lose a sidekick or a partner or even a soldier. I lost you, my son. I lost you, Jaylad! And I’ve never been the same since that day. The Bruce Wayne you knew was buried with that boy and I know you’re not the same boy that was placed in that coffin. I know that! You’ve grown...not just in inches and years...but as a person, into a man. You did come back...changed. But you are still my son. You still have a good heart. You’re a good man, that I’m proud to have as a son. I know we may not always see things the same way. We sometimes butt heads and probably always will...but I want you to know that you are enough, just as you are. You don’t have to change for me, to pretend to be someone you’re not. I want to get to know who you are now. Just give me the chance to make this right.”

Something in Bruce’s stumbling words, the way the man spoke and the look on his face...Jason knew it was sincere. It was the most honest and raw thing Bruce had said to him since he had returned from the grave. It was  _ his _ adoptive father.  _ His... _ “I’ve...missed you...Dad,” he managed to rasp out. 

Grasping Jason’s hand tightly, Bruce answered, “I know, and I’m sorry...for keeping my distance. For not fully embracing you. For not bringing you back into the family...as my son.” He hesitated slightly, but then forced the words out before he could dwell too much on what he was saying. “I care about you...as a father...like I do with the rest of them...Dick, Tim, Cassandra, and Damian. You are all my...children...my family. I’m so proud of you and I love you.”

Jason squeezed Bruce’s hand and nodded, too drained to speak, and closed his eyes. Silence fell between them as Jason slowly gained control of his emotions and his breathing became less rigid with quiet weeping. Continuing to hold his son’s hand, Bruce sat back down in the chair next to the bed. He was beginning to think the young man had fallen back asleep when Jason’s eyes opened slightly.

“Bruce?”

“I’m here, Jason.”

“Alfred’s...been keeping a secret...for me...”

“Has he now?” Bruce spoke softly, not sure if Jason was fully aware of his words or if he were talking unintelligibly in his sleep.

“It was a blank...” Jason’s eyes closed again, drifting off momentarily.

Amused and curious, Bruce wondered, “What was a blank?”

Voice just audible, Jason breathed out, “I shot Penguin...with a blank...” Eyes opening briefly, he continued, “Percussion broke his spectacles...it was a piece of glass...in his brain...not a bullet...” He huffed, “My plan...it kinda worked out too well...fooled the world’s greatest detective...but Alfred knew...can’t fool him...” Jason’s lips turned down in a pout. “Told him not to tell...our little secret.”

Stunned, Bruce felt the room swirl around him. He looked down at Jason’s pale face and felt the blood drain from his own. A blank? Jason hadn’t even shot Penguin? He took that beating for nothing? Suddenly Bruce was gasping for air. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell me?” Bruce sputtered out, in a shocked tone.

Jason’s eyes fluttered again as he spoke, words slurring as he fought through his exhaustion. “I thought I did...didn’t you listen? Or maybe...maybe you didn’t...understand...didn’t hear it...I’m my father’s son...”

Bruce had heard. He and Alfred had been watching the television coverage together. He had heard Jason clearly say those very words as picked up on the audio... _ I’m my father’s son _ ...right before shooting Penguin at point blank range in the eye. Bruce had to admit that those words had stung. Hurt him to the very core. He had tried so hard to be a good father to Jason, or at least that is what he had been telling himself at the time. Instead, he had failed miserably...now taking an honest look at himself, was he really any better to Jason than Willis had been? Good father? No, he was not. He was such an idiot.

“You deserve better than me, Jason,” Bruce simply stated. “I’m going to do better. I promise.”

Jason cracked an eye open and his lips quirked up as he said, “Me too...no more secrets...no more blaming...you and me...we got this...” Eye shutting closed and already drifting off, he repeated, “...we got this...”

Bruce watched as Jason relaxed into unconsciousness. He reached out and touched his son’s cheek and began thinking of all the ways he could start bringing his family together again...all of his family.

***


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian stirs things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mixed up canon ahead! And some canon divergence. It's my own world...Beware!

Chapter Five

Red Robin sat silently beside Wally West in the transport ship to the Watchtower. He had so many mixed emotions about the situation he found himself in at the moment. He knew that Wally had not meant to cause all the destruction that had occurred at Sanctuary. Yet, the speedster’s split-second decision to use his abilities to “piece together” the information that Sanctuary’s AI program dismantled for the security and privacy of its visitors, was the catalyst for his loss of control and ultimately the death of a dozen other capes. It was negligent homicide in its truest form. Then instead of immediately facing the consequences or asking for help, Wally had framed two innocent people in order to buy him some time to try and make something good happen out of it. The good did allow Poison Ivy to be revived...reborn...or as she called it “regrown.” He knew Wally’s heart. It had been in the right place...only misguided in its intentions. Red Robin had been around the man enough on missions with Nightwing to know that Wally was one of the best and most honorable men that wore a mask. He considered this speedster to be a genuine role-model for good in a corrupt and violent world.

“Wally, I want you to know...” Red Robin stopped and cleared his throat. He turned his eyes to the man beside him. “You don’t have to let this be your defining moment. Your life, it’s more than one snap-shot in time. You’ve always been someone I could look up to and...”

“Please,” Wally shook his head. “Please don’t. Not right now.” Handcuffed, he could do little to hide the tears threatening to fall. “Tim, I know it was an accident...a mistake...but I’m still guilty. Don’t try and make me a victim here.”

Swallowing hard, Red Robin looked away to the front of the ship where Superman and Wonder Woman were navigating into the thermosphere. They were only about 5 minutes from the Watchtower, where he knew Batman was waiting for his report. He was not looking forward to that conversation or the decisions that were to be made in the wake of these terrible circumstances. “I’m not making you a victim,” he said softly. “But you’re not a murderer. At least not in my eyes.”

Wally snorted bitterly and hung his head. He tried to use his shoulder to swipe a tear that finally escaped.

They remained silent as the ship docked and then exited with Superman and Wonder Woman. Coming into the hallway that led to the main hub of the Watchtower, Red Robin wanted to go and hide away somewhere. The air was so tense and he could feel the conflicting emotions surrounding everyone in their small group. He knew that they were taking Wally to the holding cells, but after that? He had no idea what the Justice League would do with Wally. Would he serve a sentence here on the Watchtower? Would he stand a trial or tribunal of some sort? Red Robin could only hope for some kind of leniency due to Wally’s upstanding record and the fact that it was an accident...an awful and horrible accident.

***

Jason had been fully awake for almost 40 minutes, sitting up at a slight tilt supported by his adjustable hospital bed. Pleased with his progress, the medical staff had brought Jason a protein shake, which he had sipped on. But Jason had not been able to handle much of it. His doctor had explained this was to be expected. Whatever blast or force that had cut through his body had damaged almost every organ with tiny cuts and abrasions, including his stomach. His internal bleeding had  ceased, however the injuries were still very tender and fresh.

Still in their uniforms except for the masks, Bruce and Dick had been keeping him company. “Are you sure you’ve had enough?” Dick asked, holding up the bottled shake.

Jason nodded and held up a hand. “I’m good.”

Bruce stood and paced the floor. He had been displaying a nervous energy for the last ten minutes. Dick watched him with interest. “Everything alright, Bruce?”

“Yes,” Bruce answered in a terse tone.

“Okay.” Dick shifted slightly in his chair. “Are you sure? You’re acting a bit...caged.”

Bruce quit mid-step and turned sharp eyes on his oldest son. “I’m...waiting for a response.”

Exhausted, Jason eyed the interaction with vague interest. He had started to reach his limit and could feel his body’s need for rest pulling at him.

“Response?” Dick questioned, noting his younger  bother’s drooping eyes.

“Red Robin and Batgirl were following a lead. Said it was the break they needed to find out what happened. That was over two hours ago.” Bruce activated the holographic computer from his glove. “No communication...and I am...”

“Curious?” Dick questioned, amused at his mentor.

“Rather wanting to keep abreast on the investigation,” Bruce muttered, chagrinned.

A deep sigh drew both men’s attention to the hospital bed. Jason’s eyes were fully closed and he was well on his way to sleeping. Dick smiled sadly as he adjusted the blanket around him. When his hand brushed against Jason’s arm, Dick observed, “He’s so cold.”

“It’s the blood loss.” Bruce approached on the other side and briefly squeezed his sleeping son’s hand.

“So...” Dick started. “Did you two get a chance to talk?”

Bruce glanced up, making eye contact with Dick. Returning his gaze back to Jason’s face, he nodded.

“That’s good. I’m guessing...it must’ve  went well.” Dick watched Bruce’s body language. The older man’s shoulders stiffened, but showed no other signs of agitation. “At least, you two were talking and civil when I joined you in here.”

“I am sure we will have to revisit some...concerns...mainly on Jason’s part. I have a lot to make up for...a lot to answer. But yes, we discussed some of our issues.” Bruce stayed silent for a few beats. “I have come to some conclusions.”

Tilting his head and giving his father a careful look, Dick asked, “What’s that?”

Bruce clenched his hand into a fist at his side and drew in a huge breath before answering, “Alfred is right. I need to work on my communication skills.” He glared at Dick’s badly hidden smirk. “And I know I will never hear the end of this, but you are right. I need to trust my family more.”

“Well, you keep me around for some reason,” Dick quipped, giving Bruce a flashing smile.

Suddenly, the door opened, ushering their attention to the young man entering the room. Red Robin approached the bed and stood by Bruce’s side. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s been awake and talking. Drank a sip or two of a protein shake. Just dozed off a few minutes ago,” Dick answered. “What’ve you got? B, has been pacing the floor in anticipation.”

“I’ve been concerned,” Bruce amended, fixing a true Bat glare at Dick, who remained unaffected.

“Yeah, um...Can I see you for a few minutes, B?” Red Robin pointed toward the door with his head.

Dick frowned. “Something you can’t share with the rest of us?”

Red Robin bit his lip nervously. “It’s something...I only feel comfortable giving this information to Batman.” Dick held his gaze steady at Red Robin. “Look, you will find out soon enough. I just need to tell Batman first. It’s not a clean case, okay?”

Holding his hands up in a placating motion, Dick said, “Okay, no big deal, Tim. I’ll just keep Jason company. Go share your secrets.”

“Dick...” Red Robin began, before Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Now is not the time.” Bruce gave a pointed look at his oldest son. “I’m sure Tim has his reasons and you should respect that right now...” His eyes softened. “Remember, you need to trust your family more.”

Dick opened his mouth to protest, but then clipped it shut. He ended up nodding silently and shooing his hand at them. Bruce’s lips twitched upward as he pulled the cowl back on and then turned to follow Red Robin out of the room.

Rolling his eyes, Dick turned to face a snoozing Jason. “Trust your family, he says. As if, he can talk!” He huffed. “Like I’m the one with a trust problem!”

***

Damian al  Ghul Wayne, aka Robin, had been irate with his father for the past three days. He was stewing in his anger as he sat in a chair in the lobby of the main hub of the Watchtower, unable to stomach watching his father worry over an injured Red Hood in the med bay.

Robin had been with the Titans when the news hit about the deadly assault on Sanctuary. By that time, two days had passed since the attack. Precious time lost. He had left for the Cave immediately, only to be informed that Father had asked Red Robin and Batgirl to investigate. Father was not even involved in the investigation at all...and that was on a voluntary basis! Instead, he was at the Watchtower keeping vigil over the Red Hood, who had managed to be at death’s door yet again.

Red Hood. Damian did not know how to feel about Jason Todd, the Robin that had allowed himself to be beaten and blown up by a clown. Todd had trusted his biological mother and fell into a trap. How pathetic...

Of course, Damian realized a moment later, he had done the same thing. Damian had trusted his own mother to call off the Heretic, his adult clone. She had not. Damian had died. Betrayed by his mother, just like Todd.

And just like Todd, Damian had come back to the land of the living. However, unlike Todd, Damian’s resurrection had been a rescue by his family. Father had sought out a way to bring Damian home. He had not done the same for his adopted son. However, at the time of Todd’s death, Father did not know it could be done for a non-meta or without the madness causing Lazarus Pit. Despite all odds, Todd somehow came back on his own, fought his way out of his grave, and then wandered the streets alone. Damian’s own traitorous mother had found Todd and whisk him away, intent on healing him. In his earliest memories, Damian can remember the quiet boy with a distant stare. At first, Damian had been unnerved by this shell of a person, but over time childish curiosity won out. He would look for opportunities to seek out the older boy. Months stretched by with Damian sneaking into the silent boy’s room at night or finding him outside in the garden. Damian would talk to him and share stories. To Damian, it seemed that this other boy was becoming more responsive, aware of their times together. Then one day, it suddenly ended.

Mother had dunked his mute friend into the Lazarus Pit and ruined everything. The angry, screaming creature that emerged from the green waters was nothing like his gentle and wordless friend. Over the next two years, Damian only saw Todd a few times from a distance or during training sessions with the League of Assassins. Todd always paid him no attention and his eyes held no recognition.

It was not until Mother was preparing Damian for his own introduction as the blood son of Batman that Damian learned the truth of the identity of his  _ “silent friend turned raving assassin.” _ If Damian had thought he could find a friend in the Red Hood those first few weeks in Gotham, those dreams were crushed when he realized Todd was a thorn in Father’s side. The young man’s rage was fixated on Batman. Damian could not have an alliance with someone so openly opposed to Father, and that made the Red Hood a threat. Threats should be dealt with quickly and thoroughly.

However, Damian was beginning to understand that the world was not as black and white as his mother and grandfather made it out to be in their rhetoric. It was a complicated mess of grays and off-whites, and maybe even other colors like reds and greens and yellows. Over time, his opinion of the Red Hood became mixed up and muddled in this new orbit of capes and masks. Maybe the young man was not quite a friend, not quite family...but he was not quite the enemy either.

Movement drew Robin’s attention to the hallway leading out from the med bay area. Red Robin and Batman exited out together and walked swiftly to another hallway where private conference rooms were set up for briefings and small assemblies. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it sent birds into motion. Robin hopped up from the chair he had been occupying in the lobby and moved silently toward the conference rooms. He peeked around the corner of the hallway just in time to see Batman’s cape disappear behind a closing door. Robin strained to see inside the room before it shut completely.

Not much shocked Robin. He had seen more than his fair share of shocking events in his short life. But what his eyes caught in the closing inches between the door and doorframe left his mouth gaping and eyes widening. As quickly and quietly as he had followed, Robin spun and left the hallway. He went straight to the one person who just might have the answers for what he had witnessed in Conference Room 3C.

***

Since Jason was now deep in sleep and Batman had left with Red Robin, Dick pulled his cell phone out and began to text someone who might know why Tim was being so secretive.

Dick

_ Hey Beautiful! _

Barbara

_ Hello yourself. How’s Jason? _

Dick

_ Sleeping between short spurts of being awake. Seems to be on the upswing. _

Barbara

_ That’s great news! Can’t wait to see him. I’m going to take a long nap before though. This case was really draining. _

Dick

_ Yeah, about that. Did you all wrap everything up? What happened? _

Barbara

_ You haven’t talked to Tim yet? _

Dick

_ No. He’s being all secretive. Said it wasn’t a clean case. Asked to talk to Bruce alone. I got left  _ _ In _ _ the med bay with sleeping beauty.  _ _ So _ _ what happened? _

Barbara

_ I think you need to wait and talk to Tim or wait for Bruce to come back. _

Dick

_ Babs, come on! _

Barbara

_ Hunk Wonder, don’t put me in a hard place. Please! I’m tired. I need to shower and sleep. You need to be patient and just wait. Tim was right. It’s messy. _

Dick paused. Thumbs hovering over his cell phone. He wanted to go off on her. He tried to rein in his temper. His frustration wasn’t necessarily aimed at her. He knew she was just following protocol and not sharing information about a case until the proper channels had been navigated. If Red Robin had not deemed him ready to hear the news, Batgirl was not going to share it with him either.

“Grayson!” The door swung open, slamming hard against the door jam.

Jason startled from his sleep with a  gasp.

Dick jumped up from his chair and placed a steadying hand on his injured brother’s chest. “It’s okay, Jason.” He looked up sharply at his youngest brother, who had marched in the room. “It’s just Damian. He came in the room a little loud.”

“Yes, apologies, Todd,” Robin said, as if waking Jason with his intrusion was inconsequential. “Grayson, are you aware that Drake has returned to the Watchtower?”

Dick kept his hand on Jason’s chest. The injured man was still breathing hard from his abrupt awakening, heart monitoring showing his racing heartbeat. “Yes, I am aware of that, Damian.”

“Tim’s back?” Jason asked, eyes searching the room. “Where’s Bruce?”

Shaking his head, Dick said in a gentle tone, “No worries, Little Wing. Tim came in a few minutes ago and needed to see  Bruce.  Everything’s fine.”

Robin fidgeted with the bed rail on the opposite side of the bed from Dick. “Do you know that for certain?”

“Yes, I do,” Dick stated a bit firmly, eyes going to Robin and then pointedly moving to Jason and then back to Robin.

The eye movement was not lost on younger boy who gave a curt nod and forced himself to sit down in the chair by the bed. “Of course,” he said, a little stiffly. Waiting for Dick to return to his own seat, he calmly pulled out his cell phone and began to text.

Damian

_ So you are aware of the situation unfolding in Conference Room 3C? _

Dick

_ I am not privileged to all the details, but I do know that Tim and Bruce will tell us everything when they are ready. I believe the case has been solved, but it was a bit complicated. We need to be patient. _

Damian

_ So you are not aware that Wally West is alive and handcuffed here on the Watchtower? _

As soon as Robin hit send, his eyes trained on his older brother’s face. Within seconds, he saw as Dick reacted, eyes widening and a sharp intake of breath.

“What?” Dick breathed out loud, gaping up at Robin.

Damian gave a quick nod of h i s h e a d .

Dick’s eyes left Robin’s face and trailed to Jason, who seemed to have slipped back into a calm slumber. “Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Robin answered, just as softly.

Dick stood up and paced the room, eyes roaming as if he were looking for a way out. A myriad of emotions warred across his face. After a few minutes, he walked to the door, hand on the knob, and ordered, “Stay here, Damian. Don’t leave Jason alone.” And then he walked out of the room.

***


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Damian chat.  
> Dick loses his temper and Tim's just tired. Poor, poor Wally West!  
> Jason and Damian chat some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, I did not expect this chapter to go quite the way it did...but I am absolutely thrilled! I just went with it! Hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> Also, if they have their mask on at the time, I write their hero/code name (unless someone is talking and calls their given name.) If the mask is off, I use given/secret identities. Hope it's not too confusing!

Chapter Six 

Staring at the closed door, Robin frowned, wondering what Grayson was going to do. 

“What’s got him so agitated?” 

Turning to Jason who had not opened his eyes, Robin huffed, “It’s nothing, Todd. You should just rest.” 

“Bedside manners,” the injured man muttered, voice still soft and tired. Jason’s eyes remained closed, but his lips quirked up a bit. “I’m resting just fine. But my ears sometimes stay awake.” 

“Apparently your mouth is awake, as well,” Robin mumbled. 

That prompted Jason to crack his lids enough to glare at the boy seated beside his bed. “I think it is apparent that you should learn how to keep yours closed.” 

“What are you talking about, Todd?” 

Sighing, Jason adjusted himself to sit up a little in the bed before replying, “You are young, Damian. A kid. And kids sometimes do stupid things, like going places they shouldn’t and saying things best left unsaid and acting out when they should just leave well enough alone.” 

Annoyed, Robin turned his head away and crossed his arms. _A kid!_ Todd knew nothing! He snarled out, “Speaking from experience?” There was an uncomfortable silence. Robin finally ventured to look back at the injured man. 

Jason was staring down at his hands laying across his stomach. “Yes,” the word was spoken so softly. “I am. And sometimes, I still do things like some stupid kid.” He looked up and found Robin’s eyes. “I missed years, Damian. I never got a chance to learn. But you do. Whatever it is that you told Dick...you should’ve kept your mouth shut. It’s only going to cause pain and trouble.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

“I know Dick left out of here with his emotions barely in check. That’s never a good thing. Haven’t you learned that by now?” 

Robin drew in a deep breath. Todd had a point. Maybe he had acted a bit rashly. 

*** 

Batman stood in the conference room, head bowed and deep in thought. In his long career as a vigilante, he had made his fair share of mistakes. He had caused pain and injury to innocent people. He had even inadvertently caused a few deaths by not acting soon enough or making split second choices that did not end well for others. He knew Wally West was not a murderer. He knew the deaths at Sanctuary were not caused by a villainous act. Wally had been overcome with his grief that he lost control over the speed force. The loss of control in that millisecond was not the speedster’s fault. But what about the circumstances surrounding it? Wally had made the decision to piece together the scrambled information from Sanctuary’s AI system...information that was confidential. It was a breech of trust. He had betrayed friends, colleagues, and the greater superhero community. Then after the fact, Wally had tried to conceal the act by framing Booster Gold and Harley. These acts needed to be addressed...the League would need to hand out some kind of penalty... 

For his part, Wally had remained mostly silent. He had only spoken when asked a clarifying question. He had not asked for any kind of special treatment, not even to be taken out of the handcuffs that held his arms behind him. Batman was tempted to take them off, but when he moved to approach Wally, the young man flinched and closed his eyes. Batman backed off and leaned against the wall. 

“I do not believe we should hold you here for murder, Wally,” Superman was saying. “What happened was not murder.” 

Wally closed his eyes and said, “I killed them.” 

“Killing is not always murder,” Wonder Woman pointed out from her seat in one of the conference table chairs. 

Superman nodded. “That’s right. You don’t consider Diana or myself murderers, do you?” 

Wally shook his head and answered, “I know you’ve killed...in the heat of battle against an enemy or a hell-bent rogue or some creature that’s destroying everything in its path. No, you two are not murderers for that.” Tears filled his eyes again, as he added bitterly, “But it’s not the same...This was _not_ a battle and they were _not_ the enemy.” 

“It was an accident,” Red Robin spoke up. He was standing on the opposite side of the room and had not said anything until this moment. “We’ve all made them.” 

Wally scoffed, “Look, we can stand here all day going in rounds. I’m guilty. The League needs to decide what to do with that. But for now, I would like to be taken to my holding cell and left alone.” He looked up and made eye contact with Diana, moved his eyes to Superman, and finally settled on Batman. “Please.” 

“Okay, Wally,” Superman said softly, as he moved forward to escort the younger man out of the room. 

Before they could make it to the door, it swung open. 

As soon as Wally’s eyes focused on who had entered, he let out a mortified sob and turned his head in shame. 

“Wally?” Nightwing questioned, his voice held a note of disbelief. “You’re not dead? I thought...” His eyes roamed over his best friend and that’s when he remembered and noticed... “Why’s he handcuffed? What’s going on?” 

Batman had pushed himself off the wall and was now approaching his oldest son. “I thought you were going to wait.” 

“Like I’ve told you before, on many occasions, Bruce,” Nightwing turned toward his father, pointing an accusing finger. “I’m not a child! I wore the cowl and stood in your place here in the League. I have as much business here as Tim!” 

Red Robin shook his head. He did not want any part of this confrontation. He had done his job. It had been 5 days of little rest and little food, gruesome autopsies, false leads, draining interrogations, all ending with a depressing conclusion. It was the reason that Red Robin had wanted to only talk with Batman, where he could deal with just the facts, leaving out any personal emotions. After that, Tim would be able to go home, take a shower, eat a light meal, and go to bed for 12 hours. He would then feel ready to handle the emotional fall-out of this case. Except now, he did not think that was going to happen... 

“Red Robin was helping with the investigation. You were not,” Batman’s voice was low, inching toward dangerous. 

Nightwing met his mentor, chest to chest, and spat, “Oh yeah, that’s right, because I wouldn’t have been able to handle it! But my 17 year old kid brother was deemed up for it...” Nightwing then rounded on Red Robin. “Not a clean case, huh, Tim? And what is this?” Nightwing pointed to the handcuffs on Wally’s wrists. “Wanna explain it, little bro? Because this looks pretty messed up to me!” 

“Dick,” Wally began to plead. “Please don’t...” 

Red Robin clenched his jaw, trying to keep his anger in check. “Really, man? That’s how you’re going to play this? You’re really going to go there?” 

“Well, if you and Bruce wouldn’t have shut me out, it wouldn’t be going this way, would it?” 

“Oh, don’t get me started on shutting people out, Dick,” Red Robin snarled back. 

“Stop!” Everyone turned to Wally. “Just stop.” 

“Wally?” Nightwing approached his friend and placed his hands on the other man’s shoulders. 

Holding his gaze on his friend’s face, Wally placated, “Dick, they are using proper protocol. You know that. Don’t hold it against them, especially Tim. If you will calm down and come with me to the holding cell, I’ll tell you what happened.” 

“Holding cell? What are you talking about?” 

“I did it!” Wally’s voice was strangled. “I’m guilty, ok?” 

Nightwing’s face fell and he shook his head. “What?” 

Red Robin stepped up beside them. “It was an accident.” 

Wally jerked back, away from Nightwing and the others crowding around him. “Stop saying that!” 

“But it’s the truth,” Red Robin insisted. Turning to Nightwing, he summed up, “He lost control of the speed force. It was the speed force that blasted through Sanctuary.” 

Breathing a sigh, Nightwing nodded, “So it was an accident.” Then he glanced around at Wonder Woman, Superman, and Batman. “Okay, why the handcuffs? Why the holding cell?” 

Wally dipped his head forward. “That’s not all I did...” He looked up at his friend, tears slipping out of his green eyes. “I really messed up.” 

Nightwing stepped forward, pulling the speedster into a tight hug. “We’re going to figure this out. It’s going to be okay.” 

*** 

The more Robin thought about what Jason had said to him, the more he regretted his interference. Perhaps he should have allowed Father and Drake to inform Grayson about the speedster’s presence on the Watchtower. What if it was not Wally West at all? What if it was a clone or some kind of dimensional traveler? Father and Drake could be trying to keep Grayson from having to confront someone that would give false hope. 

“You’re not much company,” Jason mildly complained, giving the boy a lopsided grin. 

“I am deep in thought.” Robin waved his hand absently, as he stood to pace a little around the room. 

Nodding his head, Jason jested, “You mean brooding.” At Robin’s glare, he chuckled softly, “Don’t worry, it’s a family trait.” 

Robin could not help himself. It was as if intoning cut-downs, threats, and sarcastic remarks were ingrained into him. It was a way to feel in control in situations that were out of his control, to feel powerful when he felt weak, and to feel important when he felt unimportant. Todd threatened Damian’s sense of security in his relationship with his mother and father. Before he could stop himself, the words came spewing out, “What do you know of family?” 

Jason’s eyes dulled over and a frown turned his lips down. “Wow. And here I thought I was the king of snark. You’ve got me beat there.” 

Shame heated the boy’s cheeks. However, Robin clenched his hands into fists at his side and continued to arrogantly declare, “I only speak the truth. You do not act like family. I know this. I have learned what it means to be a part of a family.” 

“Oh really? Would that have been from dear mommy or daddy? Because I can tell you from experience that both sides of your family tree are severely lacking when it comes to a warm and welcoming hearth and home!” Jason shook his head and closed his eyes, as he tried to calm down. His breathing had become somewhat labored with his agitation. 

Noticing Jason’s struggle, Robin stepped closer to the bed. “Calm yourself, Todd. No reason to get worked up over my sarcasm.” 

Jason stayed silent as he worked on catching his breath, but he rolled his eyes in irritation. 

Minutes ticked by in silence. Jason’s respirations returned to normal. He closed his eyes intent on ignoring the little demon in the room. He had a hard time blocking the pull of the Lazarus Pit when Damian was around. He didn’t know if it was an unconscious influence or if it was some type of mystical response to an al Ghul’s presence. Whatever the case, between Damian’s snarky comments and the green madness knocking at his mind’s door, Jason decided to retreat back into sleep. 

Robin found himself sitting down in the chair by the bed again. He had drawn his legs up and was hugging his knees to his chest. His thoughts drifted back to his silent friend...Todd before the pit. He wondered if Jason remembered... Without thought, he began to speak out loud. “I remember you...when Mother first brought you to Infinity Island.” Robin stole a look over at the man on the bed. He appeared to be asleep. Perhaps he was...perhaps his ears were still awake...perhaps it did not matter... 

“I was very young. Your silence and...empty eyes...it frightened me. But then I became curious. I started to find you and stay with you for hours. I would tell you stories. You would sit and listen, even if you did not respond. Nobody ever had time to listen to me there. Even though I was an al Ghul and heir to the League of Assassins and heir to the Bat, I was lonely. You were my first and only...friend...a brother.” Robin stopped and thought about what he had just said aloud. It was true. “Do you remember? I don’t think you do...you didn’t...after the Pit. You would walk right past me. I had hoped that you would seek me out, to acknowledge our friendship. But you were nothing except anger and pain.” Robin felt his eyes prickle, but he refused to let himself break down. He drew in a deep breath and slowly pushed it out before continuing. “When I came to Gotham, I thought maybe...you and I could...but it was obvious that you hated Father and the rest of us. You...hurt me...tried to kill me.” 

“Crap.” 

Robin’s head swiveled to the bed. Jason’s eyes were open and red-rimmed. 

“What the heck is wrong with this family? I mean really? Someone tries to die and is laying on their death bed and you would think people would have the decency to let them rest in peace and have a little dignity before they go...” 

“You are not dying, Todd. At least, not anymore,” Robin sniffed, rubbing the back of a hand across his runny nose. 

Jason’s watery eyes turned to the boy. “You’re killing me. You know that?” He turned his head away again and sighed. “I don’t remember much about those days, Damian. Most of it is in a fog. Sometimes I have dreams that I think may be from that time, but I only remember wisps of it when I wake up. After the Pit, it was all madness. I stayed away from you because you were a little boy and I didn’t want to hurt you. I hurt a lot of people in those early days.” 

“But you did hurt me when I came to Gotham,” Robin pointed out. 

Nodding his head, Jason said, “I think that had more to do with the R on your chest than anything else. I didn’t see you as a kid...I saw you as a symbol...a costume...as something I lost and couldn’t get back.” Looking Robin in the eyes, he admitted, “I’m sorry, for shooting you, Damian. I’m sorry for hurting you.” 

“Perhaps...perhaps it is not too late to be friends again, Todd,” Robin slipped out quietly. 

Jason gave a surprised humph. “I hope not.” And then he added, “Perhaps...maybe even brothers.” 

*** 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason remembers what happened right before the Speed Force hits him.  
> Then Jason and Tim have a heart to heart, followed by Jason and Dick having some words.

Chapter Seven 

Dick sat on a hard bench beside Wally in a holding cell. He had been listening to Wally’s confession for about an hour...an hour of countering his best friend’s self-hatred and anger. He was overwhelmed with the whiplash of emotions from the past few days. 

“I didn’t know Jason was there...that he was hurt. I...I would’ve helped him.” Wally leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. 

“I know, Wally,” Dick assured him for what seemed like the thousandth time. 

“You must hate me.” 

“No, I don’t. You know I don’t, man.” Dick placed his hand on Wally’s shoulder. 

He flinched. 

Dick frowned. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” 

Wally let out a shuttering breath. “You may not hate me, but there’s going to be a long line of people who will and rightfully so. I bet Bruce and Jason...” 

“Bruce?” Dick interrupted. “You would be surprised at how forgiving he can be...after his initial shock and anger wears off, he can be downright chummy.” 

“Bats, chummy?” Wally scoffed, with a sideways glance at his friend. 

Dick laughed. “Hey now, I’ve spent years with the guy calling me ‘chum.’ I can at least return the favor! Yes, he can be chummy. Just ask Two-Face.” 

“And Jason?” 

Shrugging, Dick answered carefully, “He...probably will need some time and space, but not because of what happened with him...not because of his own injuries.” 

“Roy.” 

Dick nodded his head. “Yes. Roy.” 

*** 

“So it was an accident...” Jason’s voice sounded hollow and soft. 

“Basically, yes,” Tim answered. “Wally lost control. It was an accident.” 

Jason clenched his jaw. Oddly enough, it was a hard pill to swallow. His best friend and 10 other people were dead, because of an accident. There was no sinister mastermind to seek out...to punish...to pay back...to put a bullet in and rid the world of its evil. He felt more empty now than he had when he first learned of Roy’s death. 

Bruce placed a steady hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Jason? Are you...” 

“I’m fine,” Jason answered hastily. “Just...I’m tired. I’m going to rest.” He settled back into his pillow and closed his eyes. He concentrated on breathing deep and even, hoping that everyone in the room would believe him...believe the lie...and would leave him alone. 

His world had been turned on its head lately. Sure, Jason had been dealt some crippling blows in his life. However, only 6 months ago, he could have sworn that he was actually making progress and good things were starting to happen. It was as if the universe had decided to give him a break and smile down on him. Bruce had asked him to come home. He had been slowly rebuilding a relationship with his family. He could walk in the cave or the manor without fear of being kicked out or told he did not belong. It was not perfect. But it was a start. Only...he had ruined it. He had played his cards wrong. Even though he had not shot Cobblepot with a bullet, Jason had shot and shattered his newly built trust with his family. 

Roy had helped him pick up the pieces. Roy had invited him to Sanctuary. It was a place Jason could heal and work out what he wanted to do...try and build back what was broken or to cut ties and start over. 

Jason knew before ever setting foot in Sanctuary. He knew the very night he shot Cobblepot. Despite all their problems and miscommunications and the hurt and anger, Jason just wanted his “Dad.” He knew...not just from others in the family, but also from his own observations and interactions with Bruce...Jason knew that his death had changed Bruce. His death had cut his adoptive father to the very core and left him to bleed out. And Jason felt guilty over it. 

Deep down a part of him was aware that it was not his fault. It wasn’t even Bruce’s fault. No, the fault rested squarely on that vile, filthy clown. But Jason still felt guilty and that’s what kept him from giving up completely. He loved Bruce, for being the father Jason had wanted so bad as a boy. He loved that man for taking him in and giving him a wonderful life, even if it was only for a few short years. Bruce, in all his awkwardness, had been his “Dad.” Jason so desperately wanted that relationship back. But so much had happened. Jason had come back angry, irrational, and driven by his Pit-madness. Bruce had reacted poorly. He had never opened his heart again to his lost son. They kept going in circles of hurt and blame. 

At Sanctuary, Jason had spent his days talking to an animated Bruce in the AI’s simulator. He played out different scenarios, what he would say and how Bruce would react. But in the end, it was only pretend. In the end, Jason had known that it wasn’t real...and sooner or later, he would have to face the real Bruce Wayne and he had been so scared of the real man’s response. 

As Jason allowed himself to drift on the edges of slumber, he began to either remember or dream of his last conscious steps at Sanctuary... 

_“Why don’t you love me anymore?” Jason cried in anguish to the animated Bruce._

_Animated Bruce held out his arms and pleaded, “I do love you, Jason! You are my son!”_

_“But you don’t treat me like your son! You don’t even act like you’re happy I’m alive! You never have!” Jason felt his voice rise up, sounding almost panicked, “You’ve never even said it! Why won’t you say that you’re happy I’m alive and back in your life?”_

_“I am happy you are alive, Jason,” Animated Bruce answered back. “I am so happy you are here in my life.”_

_“Except, you’re not...because you’re not real. You’re only saying that because the computer program told you to say that...to validate my feelings,” Jason said, sadly, shoulders slumping in defeat. The real Bruce would never say those things._

_Animated Bruce dropped his arms and replied, “Your feelings are valid. How may I help you feel happy to be alive? How may I help you feel loved and important?”_

_“You can’t.” Jason left his room and the simulation program behind. He pulled the hooded robe on, obscuring his face and marched toward the main area of the farmhouse. He saw Roy sitting on the couch, reading a book. He walked over and sat down next to him. “I don’t think this is going to work out for me.”_

_Roy glanced over out of the corner of his eye. “We’ve only been here like 3 days, Jaybird. You’ve got to give it time.”_

_Jason frowned and shrugged, “Three days of fake Bruce is about all I can stand.”_

_Roy chuckled and nodded his head. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have lasted a day with that.” Placing the book on the coffee table, Roy turned to face his friend, one arm resting on the back of the couch and one leg pulled up and angled on the seat cushions. “Okay, so maybe switch tactics.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Like, work on your problems with someone else in the family. Bruce is the hardest one to deal with, so leave him for later. Work on the one who would be the easiest to talk to about stuff.”_

_Jason thought for a moment. “Like Tim or Dick?”_

_“Yeah, like one of your brothers,” Roy agreed. “You’ve always told me how Tim is pretty cool and seems to be okay with you. So why not work on a simulator with him? You can have a few conversations with make-believe Tim and build up your confidence.”_

_“That makes sense...” Jason sighed. “I could probably handle that.”_

_“Yep, and then you could maybe even handle an actual real phone call to the real Tim and talk it out with him in a real conversation.”_

_Jason stiffened at that thought. “Not sure I’m ready for real heart to hearts with anyone in the family right now.”_

_“Well, it’s all good to think through your problems and work out what to say with our simulated friends,” Roy started. “But we eventually have to face the real world and the real people in our lives. If you truly want to be welcomed back in your family and want them to understand you and where you are coming from, you are going to have to talk to them for real. Until then, it’s just wishful pretending.”_

_Jason knew Roy was right. He needed to work out his own thoughts and feelings. He needed to say his grievances out loud, so he could find the right balance of how to voice his hurts and wants with his family. However, Sanctuary was only a tool to help prepare him for the real confrontation. Suddenly, the walls of the farmhouse seemed too constricting and small. He needed some air. “I’m going for a walk.”_

_“You’re not running off on me, are you?” Roy questioned, with concern._

_Jason shook his head. “No, man. I’m here. Just got to go stretch my legs a bit. I’ll be back.” Standing up, Jason clapped Roy on_ _his_ _upper arm. “Won’t be gone long.” He walked into the kitchen area, out the back door onto a small porch. He pulled off the robe and laid it on a rocking chair before bounding down the steps. He looked out at the wheat field. In the distance, he could see a small grove of trees. He decided to walk out there and rest in the shade, gather his thoughts. He had not ventured out far when he heard the alarm. He remembered standing there debating what he should do, stay outside or go back in to find Roy. Just as he decided he would go look for Roy, a bright light engulfed him as searing pain electrified his entire body..._

Jason gasped as he shot up in bed. 

“Whoa! Hey, it’s okay!” Tim was standing beside Jason’s bed. “Dreaming?” 

Jason’s eyes roamed the room and he noticed that Tim was the only one with him. He nodded, chest heaving as he sucked in air. “Yeah, I guess...” 

“Want to talk about it?” 

Jason studied Tim for a moment. “I’m just remembering stuff, I guess. Some of the stuff that happened at Sanctuary...I had gone out to get some air...and that’s when it happened.” 

Tim nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. You were found outside, in the back field. It’s actually why you were able to survive. The house and your distance kept you from taking in the full blow of the speed force. Harley and Booster were underground in the simulator rooms.” 

Seeing Tim’s somber expression and dark circles under his eyes, Jason registered for the first time since waking up from his injuries that his brother had been through a horrifying investigation over the past few days. “Are you...okay? I mean, having to investigate...all those bodies...how are you holding up?” 

Tim looked away and shrugged. “I won’t lie, it’s been rough.” Giving a bitter snort, he said, “You know, I remember thinking years ago, after my first few homicides back in Gotham that I would probably get used to seeing dead bodies...the blank stares and the blue-tinted, graying skin...the smell of death and blood. Now, I’m glad I haven’t. It’s not something I want to get used to. I honestly think if the day ever comes that I do get used to it...that will be the day I need to stop doing this.” 

Taking his time to digest the younger man’s words, Jason fiddled with his thin blanket. “I know you might not believe me. But I do understand. I’ve killed. I’ve taken lives. But I don’t enjoy it. There’s always a part of me that’s disgusted and shocked by it.” He looked up to see Tim watching him. “Even though I believe some people don’t deserve to live, because of what they’ve done and do to other people...to innocent people...I’ve never gotten numb to it. I don’t get a kick out of being an executioner.” 

“So why make yourself one?” Tim challenged. 

“If not me, then who?” Jason countered. 

“We have a justice system...judges and juries,” Tim argued back. 

“You know how often those fail! If it worked, we wouldn’t spend every night chasing down the same repeat offenders. Heck, I wouldn’t have had to worry for half my childhood that Willis was going to come home drunk after celebrating a successful heist or upset about a failed hit so he would take it out on us...beat the snot out of me and Mom!” Jason gave a sour laugh. “I probably would’ve never even met the guy. Mom might’ve gone back home, made up with her family. I could’ve had a normal life.” 

It was Tim’s turn to look pensive. “I know that there’s a lot of work to be done to repair Gotham’s court system. Maybe it’s time for us to look into doing things a bit differently...throw some of WE’s money toward helping out with rehabilitation programs or second chance organizations. As for our night activities...I don’t believe killing, even if it is only the worst of the worst, is the answer. I think in order to work with the current system that’s in place, we have got to be as close to the law as possible. If we turn law enforcement and the courts against us, it just makes it that much harder for us to do what we do. If we blur the lines even more than we already have, if we add killing to our arsenal, we risk becoming dictators and enforcers instead of rescuers and heroes.” 

“Well,” Jason drawled out thoughtfully. “I guess it’s a good thing I promised Bruce no more killing. I would hate to think I’m anything less than a hero.” 

Tim huffed and tilted his head. “You know I wasn’t meaning...” 

Jason smirked. “I know, Timbo. I’m just giving you a hard time. I think a lot of what you said is right. I’ll just have to disagree that some people are the exception to the rule and some ‘jokers’ ought to be dealt with in more permanent ways.” 

Rolling his eyes and groaning, Tim chuckled, “Wouldn’t be a Robin without a pun thrown in.” 

“Hey, we got a reputation to uphold!” Jason quipped, “Got to give Dick a run for his money.” 

“What are we betting on?” Dick asked as he walked through the door. 

“Puns...bad ones at that,” Tim answered. 

“Bad puns? You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m like the master of great puns! I’m pun-tastic!” Dick declared. 

“That’s so pun-ishingly bad,” Jason countered, in a deadpan. 

Tim groaned again and placed his head in his hands. “You two are the worst!” 

“Come on, bro! I know you’ve got some in you!” Jason goaded. “It’s not such a hard pun-dertaking.” 

Dick sputtered, “We are so pun-ny together!” 

“Oh good gravy! I must be tired,” Tim muttered. “You two are so pun-reasonalbe!” 

The three brothers started laughing in earnest at each other. A few minutes of gentle ribbing went on before Tim got up and said his goodbyes, happy that Jason was healing well and Dick was now at least okay with his role in the investigation. He was going to go and get some well-deserved rest. 

When Tim left, Dick scooted a chair over close to the bed. With the light-hearted atmosphere, he felt now might be a good time to discern Jason’s thoughts towards Wally and what happened at Sanctuary. “It’s good to see you laugh, Little Wing,” he ventured. “I know it’s been hard. It’s not easy losing a good friend.” 

Jason rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if Dick knew how obvious he could be when he decided to brooch a difficult subject. He knew his brother’s intentions were not to evoke painful memories of Roy’s death, but it still did not help him feel any less hurt by the reminder. Old habits die hard and Jason shot out a spiteful, “I guess everything’s just peachy with you now. Your best friend isn’t still dead. He just killed mine!” 

“Come on, Jay! You’ve got to know it was an accident!” Dick threw his hands out. “You know Roy was my friend too and Wally’s. And besides, Wally didn’t mean to kill anyone! He’s not a killer!” 

“Wally’s not a killer? Accident or not, there’s 11 dead capes that say otherwise,” Jason hissed back. 

Dick’s eyes narrowed and his voice became dangerously low, “Don’t be so hypocritical. You’ve got a lot more dead bodies in your wake and most of them you made the conscious choice to kill. Wally lost control in a moment of weakness, with no intentions to hurt anyone. You’ve lost your temper and then decided to hurt anyone who dared to look your way!” 

“Tread carefully, Dick. You have no clue what you are even talking about,” Jason said, in a steely tone. 

“I don’t?” Dick questioned, incredulously. “You can’t blame me for thinking that! Or did you so easily forget what happened when I was standing in for Bruce...when we thought he was dead and gone...that you didn’t try to kill me and Damian because Bruce’s message set you off on a rampage? You’ve got a hairline trigger on your temper and can barely keep it in check!” 

Forcing himself to take a few deep breaths, Jason turned his face away from his older brother. He knew if he answered back that he could very well lose his temper. Dick was not necessarily wrong about what had happened when they all believed Bruce had died. Jason was still struggling with the green haze of the Pit that clouded his mind when he had listened to the message that Bruce had left him. Looking back, he could admit that Bruce was only trying to aid him in seeking help for his childhood traumas. However, with the madness coursing through his thoughts, that only served as a catalyst to prove to Bruce (even though he was thought dead) and the rest of the Bat family that Jason was capable of being a better Batman. He needed to prove that he was right...that Batman could save Gotham by becoming more brutal and lethal in his methods. 

A little over a year later, here in the med-bay of the Watchtower, Jason was faced with another confrontation with his older brother. He willed himself to be smarter and focused. He needed to prove to Dick that he was not that same mad, revenge-seeking kid any more. He could be angry without maiming or killing. He could face family and enemies alike and choose not to assassinate those he felt were threatening him. 

Jason looked back at Dick and said in a cool tone, “I have a hairline temper? That’s rich coming from you.” 

“What’s that mean?” Dick asked. 

Jason smiled. Dick was going to make this all too easy. “I’ve learned a lot about controlling my anger over the last year. It’s not always an exact science, you know. But you have no idea how much I’ve struggled to learn how to reign in what the pit let loose and to pull myself away from the manipulations of the al Ghul’s and the League’s influences. The impulses and the madness of the Pit...I’ve had to master that with little to no help.” He pointed a finger at his brother. “But you, on the other hand, don’t have that excuse, do you? No, all it takes to set you off is the right person, pushing the right buttons, at the right time. You are so easy to provoke. It would be fun if it wasn’t so sad.” 

Dick’s face turned about three different shades of red. He stood up and walked away from the bed, keeping his back to his younger brother. His shoulders heaved up and down with gulping breaths and his fists clenched at his sides. 

Jason leaned back into his pillow, satisfied that he had proven his point. He was almost sure that Dick would eventually leave the room, but the minutes ticked by with them in their respective positions. Then, Dick’s shoulders slowly started to relax, although his fists remained clenched. 

“You’re right,” Dick spoke, voice strained. He glanced back toward the bed. “I do have a temper. I am easily manipulated in the right set of circumstances. I’ve always struggled with that.” He turned all the way around to face Jason. “You’ve always known how to play me. And that’s what you are doing now. It’s what you do with our family. I don’t think you even know that you’re doing it sometimes.” 

Blinking at this turn of events, Jason swallowed hard before asking, “What are you talking about?” 

“You use manipulation to try and control others.” 

“Give me one good example!” Jason demanded. 

“Penguin.” 

Jason’s mouth gapped open and then closed. He tried to think how he was manipulating anyone but Penguin in that situation. He was not following... “Huh?” he finally got out. 

“Why didn’t you tell Bruce what was going on? When he was confronting you and throwing punches, why didn’t you just tell him, ‘Hey man, it was a blank!’ It would’ve clued him in that something else was going on. But you chose not to say a word. You let him beat the crap out of you and didn’t say a word. Why?” Dick pressured. 

“Why didn’t he ask? It’s called ‘trust!’ Why didn’t he trust me?” Jason argued back. “He didn’t ask what happened. He just came in throwing punches and accusations!” 

“Granted, he should have asked,” Dick agreed. “But you still didn’t say anything. You should have offered up that information. You were testing him. That’s manipulative. That’s not wanting trust...that’s wanting to control the situation by withholding facts, so now you can hold that over his head. You can hold that guilt over him. And you know who it reminds me of...who does that kinda nonsense?” 

Jason shook his head and stared down at his hands. “Don’t you dare compare me to him,” he growled. 

“Oh, I dare,” Dick stated smoothly. “Bruce pulls that same kind of crap.” He walked back over to the bed and sat down at the end of it by Jason’s legs. “Like I said, I don’t think it’s intentional. It’s just a way to feel in control. It’s why Bruce didn’t ask when he confronted you about Penguin. He just accused. He could direct the narrative. He could find a way to wrestle back control of a puzzling and potentially hurtful situation. If he punished you and kicked you out of Gotham, he knew that the GCPD or Penguin’s gang wouldn’t have a chance to kill you or retaliate against you. You would be out of reach, so to speak.” 

Jason huffed. This conversation...it wasn’t turning out quite how he would have liked. He thought ruefully back at how he had planned to manipulate Dick and get him to lose his temper and how Dick had so easily flipped it back on him. “Wow. Aren’t we just a mess?” 

Giving a snort, Dick said, “We wouldn’t be Bat bros otherwise.” 

“Bat bros?” 

Shrugging, Dick offered, “It’s what we are. I mean, we’re brothers. Batman’s our dad. That makes us ‘Bat bros.’ Don’t think too hard on it.” 

An awkward silence fell over them. Both young men thinking on the accusations and declarations made over the past few minutes. 

“You know,” Jason broke the quiet. “I was thinking that I might try to manipulate you into watching a movie or something with me. It’s getting boring sitting here looking at these bland walls.” 

“I might let myself be needled into watching a movie.” Dick smiled, and added, “I might even be tricked into sneaking some real food in here if you think you can handle it.” 

“Alfred didn’t send anything, did he?” Jason’s voice hopeful. 

“As a matter of fact,” Dick began, digging in his backpack. He pulled out a tin box and grinned brightly. “He sent tea!” 

“Tea? I almost die a second time and that’s all I get?” 

Laughing easily, Dick quipped back, “Hey now, Alfred’s sending you the answer to world peace!” 

*** 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason remembers a conversation with Roy.  
> Then Jason and Bruce talk it out some more.  
> Jason has a chat with Wally.  
> Dick and Jason apparently have a few more things to talk about...but it doesn't happen here.

Chapter Eight

Jason and Dick finally agreed on binge watching a new series about an alien invasion, where different heroic teams had to come together to defeat the threatening horde. It was a bit involved and since Jason kept dozing off, he ended up completely lost as to what was happening onscreen. Sometime during the fourth episode, Jason awoke to find Bruce had rejoined them. Dick was trying his best to explain the plot and characters. With attention off of himself and time to reflect, Jason started to think about Roy.

Unlike his Bat family, Roy had rushed to Gotham to find out why Jason had apparently shot Penguin. His best friend knew that Jason had promised Batman that he would not use lethal force and that Jason intended to keep that promise at all costs. Therefore, Roy knew that something must be terrible wrong for Jason to so publicly break his vow. Jason did not know what would have happened if Roy had not intervened during the confrontation with Batman. 

Now sitting beside him in the small med-bay room, Jason quietly scrutinized Bruce as his thoughts turned to the beating. He wanted to be over the pain and hurt...to get past it...but he was still angry, even though Bruce had apologized. He knew part of what Dick said was true. Jason should have just yelled out it was a blank. Instead, he taunted Batman. He made a snarky comment about the Joker, knowing it would cut Bruce to the core. Still, Batman had been brutal...overly so...and it hurt to know that their relationship was still laced with distrust and rage.

Bruce must have felt his eyes on him. He turned to look back at Jason. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” he lied, moving his gaze back to the flat screen television on the wall.

Bruce did the same. The once calm room was now thick and laced with tension. Dick shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Jason tried to clear his mind and concentrated on taking in deep breaths. Soon he started to feel the pull of sleep again. He was tired of drifting between consciousness and slumber, but realized that his body needed rest in order to heal. He closed his eyes and floated into a dream...another memory...

_ Jason and Roy had only been at Sanctuary a few hours. They had set themselves up in rooms next to each other and were talking about some of Roy’s newest inventions and how they could utilize them best. It was getting close to supper time and Jason was getting rather hungry, so they decided to go to the kitchen to get something to eat. _

_ “Hey, you’re forgetting your robe,” Jason pointed out, as he was pulling on his own garment. _

_ Roy waved it off. “I don’t think I’m  _ _ gonna _ _ wear it.” _

_ “Really?” _

_ “Yeah, I’m good without it. You wear yours if it makes you feel comfortable though.” Roy shrugged. “I just...” _

_ “What?” Jason questioned, when Roy suddenly stopped. _

_ “I think Wally is here,” Roy stated, like it was enough of an answer. _

_ “Wally West? What’s he got to do with it?” Jason pressed. _

_ “I noticed him when we first got here. Remember the guy that we passed going down to our rooms?” At Jason’s nod, he continued, “I’m pretty sure that was him.” _

_ “How could you tell?” Jason asked him curiously. _

_ “It’s the way he moves, like he’s hesitating...but instead of the hesitation being slow like a normal person...it’s actual at normal speed. I don’t really know how else to explain it.” Roy’s lips turned into an apologetic frown. “Once you’ve been around a speedster for long periods of time, you can pick up on it. They’re movements are forced when they pace themselves at normal speeds. Like I said, it’s like hesitating, but not...you just have to know what to look for.” _

_ Jason shook his head. “I never really thought about it. To them, we must be painfully slow.” _

_ “Yeah, it’s all a bit eye-opening.” Roy drew in a breath. “Anyway, I don’t know all the details and I haven’t talked to Wally in a few years actually. But I’ve heard he’s had a really tough go lately...with the  _ _ whole time _ _ warp thing that happened, something about him losing or remembering a family that doesn’t exist. I don’t know. But I just think that if Wally sees I’m here, maybe he won’t feel so alone. I don’t have any reason to hide. Plus, the whole Jedi master look is just not for me,” Roy declared with a smile. “But you? You look good in a hood.” _

_ Jason thought about maybe not wearing his robe. It was a bit strange. But then... “I think I’ll still wear mine. Batman is so connected and I know that Dick pops in here from time to time. I just don’t feel ready to face any of them and I definitely don’t want Bruce to know I’m here. I can’t deal with that right now.” _

_ “Understandable.” Roy clapped Jason on the back, as the younger man pulled his hood over his head. “Now let’s go get some grub! I’m starving!” _

Jason slowly opened his eyes. A new episode was just starting. Dick was making a point about how one character was probably an alien mole. Bruce made some non-committal grunt. Jason shifted in the bed, sitting up more, testing his limits. He was starting to feel better, although still very sore. But he had noticed his breathing and movement was not such a struggle. Perhaps he would be able to get up and start moving around, get out of the small room. He thought back on the memory...Wally was here on the Watchtower too...he was in his own little room...one Wally deserved to be in...or maybe...

Roy said that Wally was going through some hardships. Wally had lost or believed he had lost his family. Jason understood that. He could sympathize with that. Wally had  experienced a moment of weakness. He had lost control. Jason knew a little bit about that as well. 

The more he thought about it, the more he started to think about what Roy would do and say if he could talk to Jason right now. What would Roy want Jason to do? Would Roy want Jason to seek revenge over an accident? Would Roy want Jason to hold this tragedy over Wally?

No. That was the simple answer. Roy would want to help Wally. He would want Jason to do what he could to help another person...Roy’s friend...to help Wally in what had to be one of the darkest hours of the speedster’s life.

“I want to talk to Wally,” Jason announced, halting Dick in his commentary about the alien show.

Dick shook his head and said, “I don’t think that’s such a great idea.”

“Why not?” Jason challenged.

“Why do you want to?” Dick countered back.

“I just need to talk to him, that’s all,” Jason stated, irritation clear in his tone.

“Why?” Dick asked again with more force.

“None of your business!”

“It is when it’s my best friend...”

“Who is a grown man and can speak for himself!” Jason barked back. “I just want to talk, Dick. Do I look like I’m in any condition to do anything else?”

Dick looked like he wanted to say more, but kept his mouth closed.

“I could ask if Wally would be willing...” Bruce spoke quietly.

“You cannot be serious,” Dick declared, turning wide eyes to their father. “Really?”

“Jason’s allowed to seek answers, just like the rest of us,” Bruce explained. “Besides, aren’t you the one who gave me a big speech about trusting family?”

Dick huffed. He looked between Bruce and Jason. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea. I think you should wait, Jason.”

“For what? Until I  _ am _ strong enough to lose my temper and hurt him?” Jason then bit his lip, thinking of how much he wanted to share. “Not that it’s any of your diddly darn business, I think I have some stuff to say that Roy would want me to...that Wally might need to hear.”

Dick stood up and said, “I’ve got to take a walk.” He gave Bruce a glance and then turned his eyes to Jason. “Wally’s not in a good place right now. I hope you both can keep that in mind.” With that, he walked out of the room.

Jason made a disgusted look at the closed door. “So much for trust,” he muttered.

Bruce sighed heavily. When Jason looked over at him, he said, “I won’t stop you from seeing Wally, even though I think Dick has a point. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why? What do you think I’m going to do? Blow his brains out?” Jason challenged, feeling old wounds fester.

“No.” Bruce gave a rare lop-sided smirk. “You don’t have your guns.”

Jason blew out a breath, while rolling his eyes.

“It’s what Dick said...Wally is not in a good place. I’m not sure you will help the situation.”

“So, you think I’m going to go and make it worse? You think I’m going to confront Wally, to hurt him, seek revenge for Roy with my words? After all, I’m spiteful like that,” Jason questioned, tone hard.

“Are you?” Bruce asked softly.

“It’s what everyone thinks. That I came back as some revenge-seeking, trigger-happy assassin,” Jason spat out, as he flopped back onto his pillow and threw an arm over his face. His eyes were misting at the thought that he would never be able to outrun his past, even as he tried his hardest to prove he had changed...he had gotten better.

Bruce was quiet for almost a full minute before he spoke. “Honestly, I did think that.” When Jason turned wounded eyes to him, he continued in a gentle tone, “I said that I  _ did _ but I don’t think of you that way now...I was wrong, Jay. I’ve been wrong for a good while about a good many things, especially where you are concerned. I know that you needed something I couldn’t give you when you came back to Gotham the first time. You needed me to be someone I was not. You needed me to help you in ways that I refused. I was wrong.”

Jason couldn’t help the tears that formed now. “You had reason to believe that way. I didn’t make it easy for you. But I’ve been trying, Bruce. I’ve been trying so hard, and it just seems like I’ve been climbing this mountain for so long. I’m tired of trying to prove myself. I’m tired of not being trusted. I’m tired of being forced to be the black sheep of the family. I just want to be a son...a brother...without any other label attached.”

“I know. It’s not easy and it is a process. You don’t really trust me either. You don’t trust anyone in our family to make the right choice to help you, to be there for you. But it’s a choice. It’s one that we both have to make. And I’m choosing to trust you. I’m making the effort, just as you’ve been making an effort for the past year.” Bruce smiled sadly. “It hasn’t gone unnoticed. I know you think that. But it hasn’t. I have noticed. You promised to stop using lethal force and you have. I’m proud of you for that. Not just because you’ve chosen not to kill, but because that’s how important our family...how important we are to you.”

Turning his head away, Jason swiped the tears from his cheeks. He felt drained, but at the same time could feel something else trying to break through and fill his chest. It was warm and comforting. It was hope. He just didn’t know if he could allow himself to believe it...maybe he was still unconscious...dying in the field at Sanctuary...his last moments playing tricks on his mind...

Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder, anchoring him to reality. “That’s why I’m trusting you. If you want to talk to Wally, I won’t stop you. If you say you won’t go with the intention of hurting him and making the situation worse, I believe you.”

Jason’s watery eyes found Bruce’s face. With a bit of a quizzical expression, he deadpanned, “You sound reasonable. Did you take your meds this morning?”

“Hmm.” Bruce gave his typical tilted grin. “Alfred did pack my vitamins...”

Jason snorted. After a beat, he turned serious again, “What about Dick? He’s not thrilled.”

“He’ll be okay. Just give him some space and time.”

“Okay.” Gathering his thoughts, Jason finally said, “It really is all going to be okay, isn’t it? We’re really going to be alright?”

“We’re going to keep on climbing together. One foot in front of the other,” Bruce answered, voice strong and confident.

“Well, before I start climbing any mountain again, I think I need to get up out of this bed first,” Jason quipped. “I stink and I want to get into something else besides a gown that shows my backside.”

“I think we can manage that,” Bruce started to move towards him.

Jason threw up his hands and yelped, “Whoa! No. Just...no. I think I saw a cute nurse here earlier. We will be just fine without you.”

Bruce pulled on his cowl and left the room. Five minutes later, Batman returned with a smirk and a stern looking nurse in her mid-fifties. 

***

Hearing his cell door open, Wally sat up on the bed where he had been resting. His eyes looked up with thinly veiled wariness, as his body went rigid, upon recognizing the figure in the doorway. Jason was either unaware of the other man’s reservations or just did not care, as he fully entered the cell dragging his IV pole along with him. He walked slowly and painfully over to sit next to Wally on the bed.

Wally kept his head facing forward, but his eyes glanced over at the younger man. Jason looked terrible. Dressed in loose sweat pants and a t-shirt, his skin was pale and mottled from deep bruising. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath. His breathing seemed slightly labored, but not dangerously so. After a moment, Wally’s gaze returned to the floor, unfocused. He decided that if Jason wanted to kill him, that was probably a fitting fate for him after all the people that had died...after Roy...because of him.

“I don’t blame you for hating me,” Wally finally whispered out.

Jason sighed with annoyance. “I never thought of you as being the self-pitying type. That’s something I would expect from Dick.”

Wally turned and gapped openly at him. He floundered with a response. This was not self-pity. He had no pity for himself. He was revulsed and disgusted. He was full of self-loathing and contempt.

“I don’t hate you, Wally.” Jason turned his head to face the other man, expression blank in a way that reminded Wally so much of Bruce. “I would be a hypocrite if I did.”

“But I. ..I’m responsible for all those...for Roy...” Wally drew in a breath. “They all died because of me. Because I lost control.” He snarled, “I knew what could happen if I didn’t keep the speed force in check, but I just let go...I let go...”

A far-away and solemn look clouded Jason’s eyes. After a few heartbeats, he spoke, “When I first came out of the Lazarus Pit, I didn’t have any control. It was all hate and anger and hurt, swirling and mixing together. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t understand it. Memories were twisted and wrong. Every pain and hurt...every insecurity I ever had was magnified by thousands. And the al  Ghuls knew exactly how to manipulate and turn me away from those who loved me the most. It’s taken years for me to learn the difference between my own natural disposition and what is the Pit’s influence.” Jason clasped his hands together and looked at them. “I’ve done some horrible...unspeakable things. I can blame the Pit. It  _ is _ to blame for a lot of it. But not all...not all of my transgressions were beyond my control.”

Wally did not know much about the Lazarus Pit and its effect on those who had been exposed to its mystic waters. He knew there was madness. However, he did not know how much the madness took control or how long. He was suddenly seeing Jason Todd in a whole new light.

“I allowed myself at times to let go and just let the anger take over. I didn’t fight it. I didn’t even try. I just let it take over...take control. It was easier to hate and not care about who got hurt.” Jason turned sad eyes on Wally. “I killed people who I’m not even sure deserved it. I hurt my family. Lost my family for a while. And even though I’m working on being a part of it again, it will never be the same. Bruce, Dick, even Alfred...the others...there will always be a part of them that will not fully trust me. A part of them that will always have to keep forgiving me. And do you know what’s the worst of it? There’s a part of me that’s never going to trust myself, either...a part of me that’s going to have to keep forgiving myself for what I’ve done.”

Wally swallowed. “That’s a heavy burden to place on yourself when you have been through so much trauma. I don’t know if I could’ve handled something like that any different or better. I certainly cannot judge you...not now.”

Jason snorted, “You know that was the best part about Roy. He never judged. Just accepted me for me. If I did something wrong, he would definitely call me out on it, but only to snap me back to reality. Never to judge me or hold it against me. There was never a moment that I wondered if he was going to have my back or not. I just knew he would. He didn’t care about the past. He would always say that you can’t forget it, but you don’t have to stay there. He would tell me to keep moving forward. You can’t change what’s done. It’s done. It’s over. But you can decide how you are going to move on from it.”

Wally closed his eyes. He could picture Roy standing there, saying those things to him. Move forward. It’s done. Decide how to keep going. Go. There was a stinging behind his eyes. He felt a tear slip out. Then there was a hand on his shoulder. Wally nodded. “That was Roy.”

“I’m going to miss him,” Jason stated with such sorrow, his hand slipping away from Wally’s shoulder.

Both young men sat in silence for a long time, each in his own thoughts.

Suddenly the door flung open and Dick stepped inside, a near panic in his eyes. “Wally are you okay? Jason’s...gone...” His voice trailed off as he took in the sight of his best friend and brother sitting calmly beside each other on the cell bed.

Turning toward Wally, Jason shrugged, “See? Trust.” He stood up, patted Wally’s upper arm and said, “Keep moving forward.” He walked to the door, gave Dick a silent exasperated glimpse before shaking his head and exiting the cell, with a slow shuffle and trailing IV pole in hand.

For a few moments, Dick stood looking out at his brother’s retreating form. Then, he softly closed the door as he asked, “Are you okay? He didn’t...”

“Dick, calm down,” Wally said with a huff. “We just talked. It was good.”

“Okay.” Dick nodded. He walked over to sit next to Wally, in the place Jason had just vacated. “I was just worried. Sometimes, Jason doesn’t just talk with his words.” Then making a face, he added, “Or he talks with words meant to cut. He’s really good at that.”

Wally gave a short laugh. “Gosh, he was so right.”

Dick’s expression turned  inquisitive .

“You should really try trusting Jason a little more. He’s better. He’s trying. He deserves a chance, Dick.” Wally pursed his lips and stared down at the floor. “He understands what it means to lose control and hurt others...hurt those you love. He just wants his family...” Wally’s voice cracked, “He wants his family back.”

“I’m so sorry, Wally.” Dick didn’t know what else to say, so he placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder and sat with him for a long time.

***


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some mixed up timeline canon...I wanted to include some people and situations that Jason encountered after Roy's death. But of course, Jason is recovering at Wayne Manor in this chapter, so these events took place with Roy still around.
> 
> Jason tells Bruce of his plans to buy a certain club. How's Bruce going to take it? It's a big step in working on their trust issues.

Chapter Nine

Jason had been home at Wayne Manor for five days. It was five days of Alfred’s mother- henning , of hashing things out with Bruce, of Bruce’s awkward attempts at rebuilding their relationship, of Jason’s equally awkward effort to reach out to his family, of Dick walking on egg-shells, and of Damian’s curious looks. It was also five days of quietly scheming with Tim. Jason had confided to Tim the plans he and Roy had been laying out to take down Penguin. After listening to the  original game plan, Tim offered his own suggestions and soon a full-fledged strategy had emerged. Now it was Jason’s job to launch the idea to Bruce. That really had not been Jason’s first goal. In fact, he had not wanted to tell Bruce anything about his plans to bring down Penguin. It was a sore subject and Jason was not inclined to bring the Bat into what had been his last mission with Roy.

However, Jason knew he needed to be more transparent in his dealings with Batman. He had thought about his conversation with Dick over the last few days. Personally, he might not call it manipulation as his brother had named it, but Jason had been...withholding information and being distrustful of his adoptive father. Although he felt some of his distrust towards Bruce was warranted, he also knew that he was just as guilty of this rift between them. If he and Bruce were to build back their father/son bond, Jason was going to have to take that step closer and confide in Bruce. He was going to have to tell the man his ideas and course of actions so they could avoid any miscommunications.

It was late in the afternoon when Jason found Alfred and Bruce in the kitchen having a quiet conversation as the older gentleman was beginning his preparations for the evening meal. Bruce was nursing a cup of coffee on a stool at the kitchen island.

“Jason,” Bruce greeted him, with an easy smile.

“Ah, Master Jason! You seem to be moving about quite well now.” Alfred settled a cutting board and some onions on the island across from Bruce. “It has been so good to have you home.”

Jason had mixed feelings about his stay at the Manor. At first, he had felt on edge and a little uncomfortable. Of course, he had stayed at the Manor before, while recovering from the Joker’s devastating attack on the family and specifically burning Jason’s face. But most of that time, Jason had been sedated and not everyone had stuck around. It was before  Cobblepot and before Selina had left Bruce standing alone on a rooftop in a tuxedo and holding a ring. Jason and Bruce had been in a good place in that in between time. They were having easy conversations. Jason would even find himself teasing Bruce, earning a small smile on occasion and even laughter at times, just like in his Robin days. It was not bad, not like Jason had imagined. 

However, this go around, it was a little strange. Conversations were not as easy or light. Everyone kept him at arm’s length and Jason returned the favor. But as the days had passed, he did not feel the need to run. He actually wanted this to work. Not that he wanted to live in the Manor permanently, but he did want to be able to call it home. He wanted to be able to stay when homesickness overcame him. At the end of a hard day or week, he wanted to be able to enter through the door and be welcomed with open arms. He wanted to have a family and the camaraderie of brotherhood. So, if that was what he wanted, he was determined to make it work. He was dedicated to the idea of making it all work out.

Sitting down on a stool at the opposite end of the island from Bruce, Jason said, “Yeah, I guess it has been good. What are you fixing?”

“French onion soup,” Alfred stated, as he began to expertly chop away.

Bruce smirked and said, “He’s going to make it difficult for me to sneak up on anyone tonight.”

“Onion breath,” Jason said with a nod. “Guess you’ll need to gargle with Listerine a few times before patrol.”

“I’ll pocket a few breath mints in my belt,” Bruce deadpanned.

“I could always make cucumber sandwiches instead,” Alfred  drawled out thoughtfully.

“Soup is good for me,” Bruce concluded rather quickly. “I’ve had my fill of cucumber sandwiches recently.” He ignored Jason’s snort. “Besides, Gotham’s been fairly quiet lately. I don’t expect to encounter much out on patrol tonight.”

“Since we’re talking shop,” Jason started. “I’d like to let you know about something I’m planning. It was really what Roy and I were planning to do after we left Sanctuary. But since it’s just me...”

When Jason trailed off, Bruce prompted, “It doesn’t have to be just you. You have a family...a whole team of people who can help. What is it? What mission were you planning?”

“I know I’ve got family. In fact, I’ve already talked to Tim and he’s helped flesh out a few things,” Jason hurriedly dismissed. “Anyway, Roy and I were going to take down Penguin...all the way. Leave nothing of his operation standing.” Jason eyed Bruce to see his reaction. “We’ve already turned the European Mafia against him. He has no-where to run.”

Bruce’s expression remained unreadable. “How are you thinking to achieve this?”

“Well, the Iceberg Lounge is up for grabs. I figured I could legitimately buy it. Systematically take his empire apart and turn it around for good. Really make it into a  law-abiding casino and club,” Jason explained, his eyes on Alfred’s hands chopping away at the onions.

Bruce pursed his lips in thought. “What would keep Penguin from coming back, taking it over again? And I’m sure there’s plenty of his gang...subordinates that would be willing to exact revenge for your very public attempt to execute their boss.”

“Faked execution,” Jason pointed out.

“Yes, faked. Even so, there might be retaliation or maybe even some rivals that would want to fill in the empty space once Penguin is completely taken down. Red Hood would only stir things up and cause a gang war.”

“That’s why I’m going to buy it as Jason Todd, adopted son of Bruce Wayne,” Jason shrugged his shoulders and sounded more like he was asking a question.

Lifting an eyebrow, Bruce inquired, “Would that legally be possible? Have we ever...”

“Raised me from the dead?” Jason asked, with a smirk. “It’s being taken care of...like I said, Tim’s been helping me.”

Alfred had finished chopping the onions and was scrapping them into a large skillet in order to  caramelize them. However, it was obvious he was quietly taking in the exchange.

Bruce frowned, brow wrinkling. “It should’ve been done before now. I’m sorry for not taking care of...”

Jason waved him off. “I probably wouldn’t have let you. There’s a lot of advantages to being legally dead, especially when you are living life as an outlaw.”

“Still, I should’ve offered,” Bruce admitted. Then nodded his head and sighing, he asked, “What about once you’ve gotten the club on the straight and narrow? Are you planning on keeping it and running it?”

“I have a thought about what to do with it, but really that depends on how it plays out and how certain people respond.” Jason was dreading what he knew would come next. He could already see the worry in Bruce’s eyes.

“If you do this as Jason Todd, I’m not sure Batman and his crew  _ can _ help,” Bruce said. “I mean, Bruce Wayne can frequent the casino, as can your other family members, making it a legit place for the Gotham elite. But as far as protecting you, and helping you take on any mafia or gang related problems, we wouldn’t be able to help in that capacity.”

“I know.” Jason looked down at the marble countertop and began tracing along the dark swirls on the smooth surface with his finger. “I actually have my own connections, a few people who owe me favors and can use a chance to get their lives back on track. I’ll have body guards and those I can place in management positions. People who can hold their own if anything goes down.”

“I’m guessing you don’t think I’ll approve of these personnel choices.” Bruce lip twitched slightly, as he gave Jason a knowing look.

Jason snorted. “No, I don’t.” He breathed in deep and decided to just spit it on out. “Suzie  Su and her sisters are the main ones I think you would have a problem with. Then there’s Miguel Jose Barragan...he was part of the Teen Titans a while back, known as Bunker. He’s a good kid. Tim will vouch for him. Just needs some reassurance and a chance to find his feet.” Jason watched as Alfred finished putting everything into a large pot on the stove and covered it with a lid. The older gentleman then came back over to the island, listening silently. “The last guy is a bit of a mystery, actually. He’s shown up a few times here and there. At first, I  kinda thought that he might be you, Bruce, trying to check up on me...but I know how you move and what your lower jaw looks like from under a cowl. This guy is definitely  _ not _ you.”

At both Bruce and Alfred’s quizzical glances, Jason gave a short, embarrassed laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “He dresses as Wingman. Like in my old suit. And that’s all I know him as...Wingman. But I have a phone number. I’m sure it’s not traceable, but  honestly, I haven’t tried. Anyway, he was very  insistent that I come back to Gotham and help out. Like seriously willing to drag me kicking and screaming back to Gotham. I’m assuming he would be happy to see me here setting up roots.”

Both eyebrows were now raised and Bruce was slowly, methodically nodding his head. “Okay, that’s quite a bit to digest.”

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to be...transparent. After all, we’re choosing to trust each other, right?”

Alfred smiled and spoke for the first time since Jason had started to reveal his plans. “I believe, Master Jason has backed you into a corner, sir. Well played, lad.”

Bruce sighed. “Yes, it seems so.” His blue eyes roamed over Jason’s face and then stared straight into the younger man’s eyes. “Okay, I’m going to trust you. So, you’ve got my blessing. I’ll help you with whatever you need...money, legal investments, advertisements, planning a social or gala at your new establishment, spreading the word to high end clientele...whatever, you name it!”

Jason blinked in surprise. “Really? Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Bruce confirmed.

Jason beamed a huge smile, sliding off his stool. “I guess Tim and I have a bit more scheming to do.” He made it halfway across the kitchen, before turning around to say, “Thanks, Bruce!”

A  genuine smile graced Bruce’s face as he nodded and watched Jason exit the kitchen. As soon as the door swung shut, Bruce’s expression became serious and he whirled around to face the older man across the island. “Alfred, I am completely out of my mind! He is completely out of his mind!” he hissed quietly, not wanting Jason to overhear just on the other side of the door. “What is that boy thinking? I can’t keep him safe from Penguin’s gang or the mafia! Not just as Bruce Wayne! And I can’t be Batman in this situation...it’s too close! The lines will be blurred if I do! And seriously...Suzie Su? She’s not just someone who needs to turn her life around...she’s a straight up criminal! Her whole family is crooked! And who is this Wingman? It’s not one of us! This is absolutely insane!”

“Master Bruce, calm down!” Alfred’s own voice was hushed, but his tone stern. “Must I remind you of all the insane endeavors you have tried over the years? Master Jason is young. He is testing the waters. Doing things in his own way, just as Master Richard has done over the years and Master Timothy is starting to do as well. Jason is intelligent and well-trained. I am confident it will all work out right in the end. Besides, that...that whole conversation...did it not amaze you?”

“Amaze me? It’s frightened me out of my mind!” Bruce countered, still whispering fiercely.

Alfred laughed lightly. His  voice soft when he answered, “Even so, allow yourself to consider what has just transpired...Jason confided in you. He opened up and trusted you with this grand scheme. He has not shown you trust on this level since returning to us from the grave. That, Master Bruce, is worth the risk.”

After a few minutes of contemplation, Bruce thought that perhaps Alfred was right.

***


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's opening night under new management at the Iceberg Lounge!
> 
> References posted at the end of the chapter.

Chapter Ten

_ “This is Vicki Vale, reporting live at the Iceberg Lounge, where tonight’s grand opening under new management is also doubling as a charity event for the Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic, which specializes in treating those in our more poverty-stricken areas of Gotham.” The camera angle widened out to show a  _ _ well-dressed, _ _ handsome, young man standing next to the reporter. “Joining me tonight is the Iceberg’s new owner, Jason Todd. Not one of those names you often hear when you talk about Gotham City. In fact, there was a time when you were declared legally dead...the victim of crime abroad while you were studying in the Middle East. But the reports of your demise turned out to be extremely exaggerated.” _

_ “Mostly exaggerated.” The young man allowed a smug smile to tug at a corner of his lips. _

_ “Ha, Ha! Clearly.” Vicki Vale’s eyes sharpened before she continued, “You’ve always been the most private—maybe the most protected—of Bruce Wayne’s wards. What on earth possessed you to take over the Iceberg Lounge?” _

_ “Honestly? The position came up out of the blue and I saw an opportunity.” Jason smiled  _ _ mischievously _ _ , looking directly into the camera. “Naturally, I asked myself...what would Bruce Wayne do?” _

Eyes on the small television angled out on the kitchen wall, Alfred shook his head in amusement and muttered, “Cheeky little brat.”

“He is that,” Bruce responded with a chuckle from his seat at the kitchen table. He was dressed in a stylish tux, looking all of the billionaire playboy part.

“Is there a reason you have not yet left for the charity event of the evening, sir?” Alfred inquired, muting the television and turning his attention to Bruce.

“I’m going soon. I wanted to make sure that Jason had an opportunity to take the spotlight. I was  afraid that Vicki would insist on interviewing me first or corner me along with Jason. This is his mission...his project...and I don’t want him to feel like I’m trying to micro-manage or take over.” Bruce stood up and straightened his jacket. “Now that he has been acknowledged as the one in charge, I’m off to support him.”

“Very good, sir,” Alfred replied. He walked over to Bruce and patted his upper arm. “I am very proud of you, Master Bruce. The effort you are making with Master Jason is quite noticeable. I know it is not always easy to allow yourself to step back and just trust that these young people will make good choices.” The older gentleman’s expression turned slightly more serious. “And to be honest, they will make bad choices. They will make mistakes. Sometimes, it is a parent’s job to warn and then step out of the way, watch and pray, and then be there to help pick up the pieces. We cannot and must not control every aspect of our children’s lives.”

“You’re speaking like I’ve made some questionable decisions in my own life, Alfred, and that you let me do it,” Bruce teased.

“Indeed, my boy,” Alfred answered, with a slight twitch of his mustache. “Now, off with you! Before the lad starts to feel abandoned.”

***

“This is a really bad idea,” Dick muttered, as he watched Jason being interviewed across the casino floor.

“Would you relax?” Tim sighed heavily and then sipped his drink. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to be somewhat supportive of Jason.”

Dick’s mouth dropped open and he began to protest, “I am being supportive of Jason! I’m here, aren’t I?”

Tim’s head cocked to the side and his lips quirked in silent consternation.

Dick huffed. “Just because I’m not optimistic about all of this, doesn’t mean that I’m not going to be here for Jason and support him. I only want to encourage him to make smart choices...to not let his emotions control his actions.”

“Okay,” Tim held up his hand holding his glass, and pointed a finger out at his older brother. “You say that you want to ‘encourage him to make smart choices.’ Do you consider this...” He motioned around the casino with his upheld hand, ice clinking in his glass. “...to be a smart choice?”

“No, I don’t,” Dick admitted and then sighed. “Look Tim, I know that you helped Jason come up with this grand scheme...”

“Actually, I didn’t. This was Roy and Jason’s idea.” Tim shrugged. “I just helped with the finer details.”

“Exactly, Jason and Roy planned this. Both people who’ve never had the greatest track record of wonderful life choices,” Dick argued. “I’m not saying Jason’s intentions are wrong or that he shouldn’t want to take Penguin down for all that crook’s done to his family, but I don’t see how this adventure in owning a casino is going to end well. I think Jason is setting himself up for more trouble and quite possibly it’s going to start a huge gang war in Gotham that will put Jason Todd in the cross-hairs...not Red Hood.”

Tim shook his head. “I think you’re underestimating him. You need to stop thinking of Jason’s past. We’ve discussed it before...Jason has gotten better. He has! You’ve seen it and said it. It’s time to act like it. If you can’t be positive...if you can’t step up and help, then walk away completely until this is all over. Jason doesn’t need your lack of faith right now.” With that, Tim turned and left Dick standing alone.

***

Stephanie Brown watched the exchange between Tim and Dick with a frown creasing between her eyebrows. She could not hear the words or even read their lips, but she knew that they were semi arguing again. Ever since Dick’s run as Batman, the relationship shared by the two brothers had been strained. Tim had been deeply hurt when Dick had practically pushed him aside in favor of Damian. Stephanie did not think the greatest hurt was losing the Robin identity. It was the fact that Dick took it upon himself to make excuses and even overlook Damian’s actions against Tim. Dick protected Damian at all costs, even at the cost of another brother.

Then, Tim had found evidence that Bruce was alive. When he presented it to his older brother, Dick had dismissed it. In fact, he had told Tim that it was only grief causing him to see patterns that were not really there...that Tim was losing his mind.

When Bruce came back...when Tim was proven right...Dick never apologized. He never tried to repair the damaged relationship. He just acted as though everything was normal. Tim distanced himself as much as he could from Dick and the others. So much more had happened since then...so many more tests and trials...but neither brother had started the process of reconciliation and it was evident in their strained interactions.

Stephanie knew Tim’s feelings and side of the story because she had been his listening ear. She had sat through many a pizza and movie night while Tim bared his soul. She had gone on countless patrols with him as he grumbled about trust and family. Her phone had been blown up with texts detailing his frustrations.

Now looking across the room at Dick, she took note of his deep frown and grief-stricken eyes that followed Tim’s retreating form. Here was the other side of the story. One day, Stephanie was going to be a really good therapist. She was already pretty good at it and knew when someone needed to connect and share with another human being. She knew when someone needed a shove  toward resolution. She squared her shoulders and approached the man in her sights.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she quipped, when she reached Dick’s side.

As she knew he would, Dick allowed his melancholy expression to quickly warp into his usual amiable smile. “Yeah, fancy that,” he jested back. Eyeing her deep purple cocktail dress, Dick nodded toward her and commented, “You look stunning tonight. Purple is definitely your color.”

Blushing slightly, Stephanie said, “Thanks!” She knew Dick well enough that she could take his compliment as sincere and brotherly. Nothing more and nothing less. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Dick snorted. “Who would’ve ever thought some little circus brat like me would actually have no less than 5 tuxes in his closet at one time.”

After a moment, Stephanie worked up the courage to speak what was on her mind. “So, when are you and Tim going to talk about all the crap between you two?”

“What?” Dick blinked at her, smile faltering.

“You heard me,” she replied, blandly. “I know why Tim’s hurt. I know his feelings. I even think he has every right to be angry with you. But I’m not naïve enough to believe you don’t have a legitimate bone to pick with Tim, as well.” Stephanie raised an eyebrow. “Otherwise, why would the great Dick Grayson not do everything in his power to make things right with the one brother who has always been so loyal and steady?”

Dick’s shoulders visibly sagged. He gazed across the room at Tim and Jason talking easily and laughing together. “I messed up. I knew the moment I took Robin from Tim and put Damian in the uniform that it was a bad move...the way I did it...was wrong. But I didn’t know what else to do. I thought Tim would understand why...I thought he could see that I needed to keep Damian close because that was the only way to control him. That was the only way to get Damian to listen to me. I was so afraid that...Damian was going to be my...Jason. I was so afraid of failing Bruce by allowing Damian to get himself killed or worse that Damian would continue on his path as an assassin. But Tim didn’t get it. He just...he left. He didn’t stay and help.”

Stephanie reached out and placed a hand on Dick’s arm. And there it was...the other side of the story. Dick was dealing with the death of his father figure. He had the burden of Batman placed on his shoulders. He had been shoved into the role of the family’s leader. Alfred was grieving and unwilling to play mediator. Jason was still pit-crazed and causing chaos. Barbara was distant. Damian was a murderous ten-year-old. 

Then there was Tim. ..Tim was the only one that Dick thought he could count on to be in his corner, to understand. Of course, Dick believed that Tim would decipher his motivation to give Damian the Robin mantle. Why would Tim  _ not  _ figure it out? After all, Tim was  brilliant at deducing all things mysterious in the family. Tim was so great at reading between the lines. It’s one of the reasons he was so good at being Robin and being the glue in the Bat family...it was rare that Bruce or anyone had to have an emotional talk with him. Tim just knew. He knew what was being inferred. He understood the rationality behind actions and decisions. However, instead of figuring out what Dick was doing with Damian, Tim had stormed away from the family. To Dick, Tim abandoned him in his darkest hour. He needed the reassurance of Tim’s loyalty, and yet his younger brother had refused to offer his allegiance.

It was all so obvious now. Stephanie sighed. “Tim didn’t understand and instead of sticking around, he left. And not only did he leave, but he has been steadily getting closer to Jason.”

Dick’s eyes snapped to connect to those of the teenage girl next to him. “I’m not jealous. I’m happy that Tim and Jason are getting along.” He glanced back over at his two brothers. “Tim’s been instrumental in bringing Jason back into the family.” He closed his eyes and whispered, “Where would we all be without Tim?”

“You should take the time to talk things out with him,” Stephanie prodded. “He’s hurt. You’re hurt. But it’s not un-fixable.”

Dick’s smile slowly returned. He gave Stephanie a hug and whispered into her ear, “Thanks, Steph. I needed to hear that.” Pulling back from the hug, he said, “I’ll plan something with Tim, where we can talk.”

“Soon,” Stephanie demanded, with a sharp look that was softened with a grin.

“Soon,” Dick agreed.

***

Tim and Jason moved off to stand near the opening to the large balcony that overlooked the bay back toward Gotham.

“The city almost looks beautiful from here,” Tim mused, as he gazed through the opened large French doors.

“Almost,” Jason muttered.

Tim gave him a quizzical look. “You sound a little glum for someone hosting a major charity event at his new establishment.”

Waving it off, Jason said, “Don’t mind me, Tim. I’ve never enjoyed these things.” His gaze drifted around the room. “I used to do everything in my power to avoid going with Bruce to a gala. One time, I even faked a fever. Of course, Alfred knew, but he played along. Poor Bruce didn’t have a clue! He called or texted every 30 minutes to check on me.”

Tim chuckled at that. “Alfred has always said that Bruce was very protective of you.”

Jason rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Whatever.”

“No really, I think there’s a good bit of truth to it. I mean, it may seem controlling or even a bit like suspicion...but that’s because Bruce doesn’t know how to convey emotions like affection and love.”

Jason frowned thoughtfully. “I’ve never thought of it like that. It must be hard being the brains of this messed up family.”

Tim laughed and then said, “Actually, I thought Alfred was the one with the brains.”

“That’s true!” Jason nodded his agreement. “But you’re a close second.”

Smirking at his brother’s remark, Tim gazed around the room. He saw Stephanie talking to Dick, watched as they hugged, and parted ways.

“So how are things going with Blondie?” Jason asked, as he noticed the object of Tim’s attention.

“Just friends.”

“Hmm...just friends.”

“Yes,” Tim said firmly. “Nothing more.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Jason stated. He snickered at Tim’s glare. “What? I do think it’s a shame! I think she’s good for you and vice versa. Maybe, it’s just not the right time.”

Shrugging, Tim admitted, “Maybe.” After a few moments of silently observing the bustle of the casino, he noticed Jason stiffen beside him. “What’s going on?”

“I think trouble.” Jason started to walk off toward one of the roulette tables. Tim swiftly followed behind.

“This is bogus!” A young man dressed in a flashy tux and wearing a gold chain was causing a scene. He was flanked by two equally dressed friends. All three were leaned across the roulette table, red faced, and yelling. “This wheel is fixed! No way we can lose this much!” Jason decided this stooge would be dubbed  _ Gold-chain _ .

One of the other men with brown, wavy hair chimed in, “Do you realize who we are?! You ever heard of the Falcone family?” Jason tapped him as  _ Curly _ .

“One word from us and this place would melt into the bay!” the third man, with a noticeable scar across his chin, claimed indignantly. Jason grinned wolfishly. This guy was  _ Chinny Chin  _ _ Chin _ .

Suzie  Su’s sister, Night, happened to be the croupier of the table with all the commotion. Jason was thankful because he knew that this particular young lady could handle herself easily if the Falcone boys turned physical. However, he did not want Night to be the one to throw the first punch. It was imperative to try and handle the situation quickly and as professionally quiet as possible. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wingman and Suzie approaching the table as well.

“I certainly hope  _ that _ doesn’t happen,” Jason spoke lightly, placing a charming smile on his face.

“Eh?” Gold-chain turned to face Jason.

“Good evening, gentleman,” Jason continued with honey in his tone. As he kept speaking, he noted that Miguel had joined Tim just off to his left and Susie was hanging back watching from a distance. Wingman was now standing ready off to his right. Jason held out a steadying hand toward the large man that served as his bodyguard. Keeping his attention on the  Falcones , Jason asked, “What can I do to make this the most unforgettable night of your lives?” Then, because he really could not help being a bit snarky, even if he was the only one to notice, he added, “Because I will.”

“At last they sent the big guy over,” Gold-chain sniped.

“That’s what I’m talking about. That’s respect,” Chinny Chin  Chin agreed.

Curly whirled on Jason, face still flushed. “Yo, Todd! You need to fire this cheating cheater!”

Jason stepped up and easily grasped  Curly’s hand into his, giving the impression of shaking it in greeting. “That is quite the charge.” He used the hand grip to turn Curly toward Miguel. “Rest assured, I’ll look into it. In the meantime, please let Miguel here show you to our exclusive Igloo Suite.”

Miguel quirked an eyebrow at Jason. “Suite, you say?”

Jason nodded his head and simply hummed, “Mmhm.”

Chinny Chin  Chin looked pleased. “ _ Exclusive _ , eh? I like it.”

“Yeah, it’s a start, anyway,” Curly mumbled, still looking a bit miffed.

Miguel stepped forward, motioning the trio to follow him. “Right this way, boys.”

Jason watched as Miguel led the Falcone boys away. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

“There’s an exclusive Igloo suite?” Tim asked in amusement.

“For them there is,” Jason smirked. He waved Tim out onto the balcony with him. Within a few minutes, a big ball of bricks shot out across the water headed for shore. Miguel joined them out on the balcony a short time later and watched his brick creation as it rolled along on top of the water, passing an approaching water taxi. Knowing his Falcone problem was neatly wrapped up in the brick ball, Jason asked in amusement, “Will that stay airtight all the way back to the docks?”

Miguel shrugged. “Probably...hopefully.”

Tim shook his head and chuckled. “Oh my gosh! That’s...that’s just...funny!”

“It’s nice having a meta friend that can create and manipulate brick-like energy constructs.” Jason patted Miguel’s shoulder. “Good work! I doubt we will have any more trouble from those Falcone looneys.”

***

Curiously, Bruce watched a giant brick ball skid past his water taxi and wondered what on earth he had missed during the opening hour of the Iceberg Lounge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vicki Vale's interview and the discussion with the Falcone boys is pretty much direct dialogue from Red Hood Outlaw #32.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of Jason's friends shows up at the Iceberg Lounge.  
> Bruce just can't help being a detective sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This continues to have a sliding timeline as it parallels comic canon. Mainly, Roy did not die until after the Mexican prison incident and Jason's dog went to stay with a friend before he bought the Iceberg Lounge.  
> I'm not sure how much longer I will be following along with the comic book canon here. I do know I have a scene that I'm definitely working towards. It should appear in the next few chapters, so it will be at least until that point.  
> Also, I'm editing my note to readers posted in Chapter One since a few things have developed in this story.  
> I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Eleven

Isabel Ardila, along with a non-pedigree brown dog, sat in the water taxi curiously spying the handsome man across from her. She had recognized him immediately as Bruce Wayne. Being a first-class flight attendant for a popular international airline, Isabel had come across her fair share of rich and famous people. She was no longer as star-struck as she had once been earlier in her career. At present, she was capable of sitting in the shared water taxi and not bat an eye at Gotham’s billionaire playboy.

Bruce Wayne caught her eye and smiled easily...friendly...but not flirtatious. Of course, the man was old enough to be her father, not that most billionaire playboys would let such an age difference matter. Isabel smiled back, as she began to pet the mutt beside her. Dog, as Jason had christened her, lay down on the seat and placed her head in Isabel’s lap. Isabel smiled down at the animal, thinking of the man who had entrusted her with the care of his impromptu pet. Now that Jason appeared to be settling down somewhat, she decided to bring Dog to rejoin her owner.

Isabel was happy for her friend, Jason. He seemed to be making something better of himself. If only she had met him now, instead of 18 months ago...Jason’s life had been so crazy and he had dragged her into his dangerous and weird orbit. She did not come from a world of living on the run, danger around every corner, alien wars, and daily chaos that was a fight between life and death. She told Jason that it was too much. She could not live his lifestyle of constant risk and flight.

But a few weeks ago, she had gotten a text. Jason told her that he was buying a casino in Gotham City and was going to open it with a charity event. He would be honored if Isabel would come to the event as a special guest. So, Isabel was here, as a friend and to return Dog. Jason was so kind and good. She hoped that this casino would be a successful endeavor. She hoped her friend could prosper and maybe leave his tumultuous life behind. If so, maybe...perhaps...she might could stay this time. Maybe Jason could become more than just a friend...

“Is she a service dog?”

Isabel blinked out of her thoughts and looked across at Bruce Wayne. “What?”

“Your dog? Is she a service dog?” the man asked with a smile.

“Oh, no! She’s not. I’m just...returning her to her owner. I’ve been watching her for him.” Isabel scratched behind one of Dog’s ears.

“She’s very well behaved,” Bruce observed.

“She’s a good girl,” Isabel agreed.

“What’s her name?” Bruce asked.

Isabel smirked, already amused at what she knew was coming. “Dog.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes as his lips quirked ever slightly upward. “Dog?”

Isabel just nodded.

“Who on earth names their dog, Dog?” Bruce questioned, with a chuckle. “Your friend must be quite a character.”

“You have no idea!”

Bruce was about to respond when the sounds of something splashing past their boat drew his attention away. A large brick ball skidded past.

Dog sat up and glanced out, barking a few times. Isabel closed her eyes and shook her head. It seemed weirdness just followed Jason around. Sighing, she muttered, “Jason Todd, what’s going on now?”

“You know Jason?”

Isabel turned her eyes back to Bruce. “Yes. Do you?”

Smiling again, Bruce said, “I’m his father.” Extending his hand, he added, “Bruce Wayne.”

At that, Isabel blinked hard and frowned. Jason never once mentioned being the son of Bruce Wayne. She thought that would have been one of the things he  _ would have _ mentioned...especially since she knew about his crazy life as Red Hood. But then, what was the son of a billionaire playboy like Bruce Wayne doing as an international outlaw? It made no sense. She noticed Bruce scrutinizing her and snapped herself out of her scowling expression and forced a grin. She held out her own hand and allowed Bruce to grasp it with a gentle squeeze. “Isabel Ardila,” she stated. Bringing her hand back and patting Dog on the scruff of the neck, she added, “Well then, I guess you do have an idea about the character that named this scoundrel.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes. Amusement quite evident in his tone, he said, “Yes, it makes a bit more sense knowing her owner...Jason is definitely something else.” The water taxi docked. Bruce stood up and offered Isabel his hand. She accepted it easily. “Shall we go find him?”

Isabel nodded and tugged gently on the leash. “Come on, girl.” Dog hopped down and trotted along with them.

***

Jason walked through the middle of the casino tables, watching his guests. He noticed many Gotham elites seated around the room. He breathed in deeply. Opening night under new management was firmly setting the Iceberg Lounge as a legitimate establishment here in Gotham. One step at a time...Jason was taking Penguin down...without drawing a single weapon...without Red Hood. Jason Todd was doing this for that little boy who had everything taken from him. It was for that scared little street rat that had to fight for every little scrap. Jason thought about Catherine. He thought about how proud she would have been of her little boy. And in that moment, Jason felt proud of himself, too. It felt great.

Suzie  Su sidled up beside him, matching his slow steps. “There’s a card counter at Table 4.”

One of Jason’s eyebrows lifted as he glanced toward the mentioned table. “Be subtle. We don’t need a scene.”

“Have you seen the size of my fists? The size of me? I was not made to be subtle, Jason,” Suzie quipped, motioning toward her massive form.

Jason stopped walking and turned to face her. “Do you remember earlier, with the Falcone boys?”

Suzie huffed, “Yes, but you’re naturally charming. You can easily pull off...”

Holding up his hand, Jason interrupted, “You can learn to do this. For this place to thrive, we must be able to engage others in a difficult situation without drawing attention to it and without resorting to a violent solution. We’ve got to be shrewd as snakes, but harmless as doves. It’s a learned strategy. I’ve had to learn it. I’m still learning.” He smiled fondly at Suzie’s anxious expression. “Here’s what you’re going to do. First, you are going to start a conversation at that table. Introduce yourself. Give the cheater a compliment. Give no hint that you know what is going on. Talk kindly. Quietly work your way to stand beside them. Next, you calmly state that you know they are counting cards. Try to say it where others will not hear. Don’t call it cheating. Congratulate them on being so intelligent. Use their name, even. Then, you will state the rules of the casino. Remind them that we do not allow card counting. Finally, kindly ask them to leave the premises before you need to contact the proper authorities.”

“What if they argue?” Suzie asked, perplexed.

“Allow them to talk. Allow them to deny. But don’t lose your cool. Just keep repeating that cycle of complimenting their intelligence and calmly stating our policy against card counting. Keep asking them to nicely leave the premises. If they outright refuse 3 times, clear the table. Call the authorities. We will let them handle it.”

Suzie sputtered, “You want me to call the police?”

“Yes,” Jason stated firmly. “We do this legal...unless other patrons are in danger. Then we protect.”

Suzie sighed and then turned, heading for Table 4.

Jason slowly circled around and watched from a distance. He observed as Suzie handled the situation exactly how he had laid out. In the end, it took her only 4 minutes to get the card counter away from the table and moving to the exit. He smiled over at her when Suzie’s eyes checked back at him. Raising the glass in his hand, he winked and mouthed,  _ Good! _ Suzie blushed and continued her vigilant patrol of the casino.

“Boss!”

Spinning around, Jason spied his bodyguard walking swiftly toward him.  _ Wingman _ was dressed in a simple but stylish suit, having abandoned the costume of his vigilante identity since joining the casino staff. That somewhat surprised Jason...that this large muscular man would risk his personal identity so easily. Perhaps that meant that this man had no one to protect...no one that his enemies could threaten. Or maybe he was just naïve. Whatever the case, Jason found him to be quite capable and skilled.

As for his physical appearance, Wingman had black hair and chiseled hard lines on his face. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way. Jason estimated his age to be around 40 years and in very good shape despite evidence of a hard life from the many scars that crossed his exposed skin. His eyes were dark hazel and glinted nervously at any movement nearby. Jason knew that look. It was the look of someone who expected danger around every corner, twitchy and agitated. He knew it because he had seen it on the faces of men in prison, the crooks he tracked down as Red Hood, the henchman that worked for Gotham’s  crime lords ...he had seen it as a child on the face of his own father. Unfortunately, Jason also saw those same shifty eyes when he looked in the mirror. Wingman was like him...born in the slums of Gotham, unable to trust anyone or anything. A lonely soul just trying to survive any way possible.

Jason still did not know this man’s true identity. He seemed familiar, but Jason could not place him. To be honest, Jason really did not want to know. If he learned the man’s background, he might not be able to work with him at all. As it was, Wingman had proven himself loyal and useful and Jason wanted to leave it that way.

“Boss,” Wingman repeated as he got closer. “There’s a young lady at the entrance. She says she knows you...and she has your dog...you know the mutt from the Mexican prison?”

“Isabel?” Jason asked, mind racing. He never really expected her to show up.

Wingman nodded, “That’s who she said she was...came in with Bruce Wayne.”

“Figures,” Jason muttered, a bit chagrinned. He made his way to the entrance. As he approached, Dog saw him first. She pulled slightly on her leash and gave a single happy bark, tail wagging ecstatically. Isabel’s eyes caught his and she smiled, cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. “You made it!” Jason declared with his own face beaming. He stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. Dog immediately jumped up, pawing and whining for attention. Laughing, Jason knelt down and began to scratch the mutt’s head and neck. “Yes, I see you! Have you been a good girl? Huh?”

Isabel answered, “She’s a good girl. No problems.”

Jason stood back up and asked, “What about you? How have you been?”

“Good. Busy, but good.” Isabel hesitated only for a few seconds before waving her hand back at the tall man standing a few feet away, pretending not to be watching the scene in front of him. “I shared a water taxi with your father.”

Jason glanced over at Bruce, who gave a small wave to him. “Bruce, you finally arrived...fashionably late.”

“Yes, well, it worked out in my favor...I got to meet this lovely young lady,” Bruce drawled out. “And your dog. I hope that when you give me grandchildren, you will put a little more thought into naming them.”

Jason’s mouth gapped open and he turned a little red. Finding his voice, he mumbled, “Really B? You’re just  gonna ...I don’t even know...” Then smirking, he pointed off toward his older brother. “You know what, just go talk to Dick about grandchildren. He’s the oldest. Tell him to get his crap together with Barbara. Go embarrass him for a while.”

Bruce raised his hands in surrender. “Hint taken,” he chuckled. He reached out and took Isabel’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Lovely meeting you, Isabel. Have Jason bring you by the Manor sometime.” With that, the older man moved off to join Dick over at one of the tables.

Once they were alone, Isabel accused, “You never told me that Bruce Wayne is your father.”

“He’s not...but he is...it’s...” Jason stumbled over his words. It’s not like he couldn’t confide in Isabel. She already knew he was Red Hood. She knew his identity. If she wanted to figure it all out on her own, she was intelligent enough to easily do that. “Why don’t you and I take Dog to my office? We can talk in there and I can explain.”

***

Bruce had been pleasantly surprised that the young lady in the water taxi was one of Jason’s friends. Jason rarely talked about his life away from Gotham with the family. Bruce did not even know he had a dog. It was becoming more apparent to him that he actually knew very little about the  circle of people in Jason’s vast orbit. He had a great many connections that Bruce was unaware existed. He wondered if their relationship could be repaired to the point where Jason would trust him enough to talk and share about this network of friends. It was something he would like to work towards.

Glancing around the room, Bruce was able to pick out Suzie  Su and her sisters. They were working throughout the casino and seemed to be keeping everything running smoothly. Bruce was not too thrilled about Jason’s choice to use that particular group. However, he had decided to trust Jason on that point. 

Continuing his observation of the casino staff, Bruce watched as Miguel walked over to the drink bar talking to Tim. He felt a bit more at ease about this young man. Tim had told Bruce that Miguel was a really great kid that just needed someone to believe in him and help him on the right path.

As his eyes drifted away from Miguel and Tim, he caught sight of Jason and Isabel guiding Dog toward the doors that led to the casino’s offices. Pacing himself about 20 feet behind them was the man known as  _ Wingman _ . Bruce had only given him a fleeting glance when he first arrived at the casino. Even so, it was enough to make Bruce tense up. There was something familiar about this man. It put Bruce on edge. The mysterious bodyguard just did not sit right with him. Bruce scrutinized Wingman as he walked through the tables, dutifully keeping in range of Jason, ready to protect his young employer.

“Who are you giving the Bat glare?” Dick jested from beside him.

Bruce darted a look over at his oldest son. “What do you know about Wingman? Has Jason told you anything?”

Dick’s eyes narrowed as he found the man in question. “Not much. Just that he is apparently very protective and loyal to Jason. Wants him to stay in Gotham. Hunted Jason down in Mexico.” He shrugged. “It’s kinda strange to me. But I guess as long as he keeps Jason safe, I won’t ask too many questions.”

“Hmm.” Bruce watched as Wingman stood guard in front of the doors that Jason and Isabel had disappeared behind. He allowed himself to really examine the facial features of the other man. It was then...in that moment...a picture...a mug shot came blasting into Bruce’s mind. “No,” he gasped.

Dick turned anxious eyes to his father. “What?”

“I think I know who Jason’s Wingman really is,” Bruce muttered, concern creasing his forehead.

“Who?” Dick questioned.

Bruce shook his head. “I’ve got to make sure. I cannot be wrong about this...I can’t tell Jason it’s...I’ve got to be positive.” With that, Bruce headed toward the front entrance.

“You’re leaving?” Dick asked, following closely on Bruce’s heels. “You just got here!”

“I’ve got to get to the cave, look at...”

“Bruce,” Dick called, reaching out to grasp the older man’s arm. When he stopped, Dick continued, “Don’t run off. Don’t be  _ him _ right now. Remember? Be Jason’s Dad.” Dick sucked in a breath. “I’m not one to talk. Really, I’m not because I’ve been having a hard time going along with this right now, too. But it’s been pointed out to me tonight that regardless of what I think, I need to be here...right here in this moment...I need to be here for Jason, with no judgment. If you leave hardly 10 minutes after you’ve arrived, how is that going to look to Jason? If it is anything short of catastrophic, it’s going to crush him.”

Bruce huffed and looked away. He fought the detective inside. He fought the urgency to investigate...to find out the truth. In the end, he knew Dick was right. Even if Jason barely gave him two minutes time tonight, he had wanted Bruce to be there and to openly support him. If Bruce left now, Jason would be hurt. Bruce nodded curtly. He gripped Dick’s upper arm. “Don’t let Wingman out of your sight.”

“Okay. I’m the bodyguard of the bodyguard,” Dick quipped.

“Hmm,” Bruce hummed uncertainly. “I’m not sure I would put it quite like that. Maybe you’re more like the parole officer.”

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. “Do I even want to know about why I’m watching Wingman so closely? Who is he?”

Bruce clenched his jaw and fisted his hands. “If it’s who I think it is...all hell’s going to break loose once Jason finds out.” 

***


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Isabel talk.  
> Poor Bruce...nobody is letting him be...Bruce.  
> Jason brings out the All Blades and then he gets a goodnight kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember the sliding timeline and it's still closely following the comics (especially RHatO #33.)  
> Also, I did my best with the All Blades and All Caste stuff. I had some questions myself when writing it. I never could find definite answers, so I just ended up writing it the way I understand it and think about it. I hope it's understandable.  
> I'm excited about this chapter, even though some of it (a few paragraphs here and there) gave me fits and I'm not sure it was exactly how I really want it. But it's leading up to one of my absolute favorite scenes that's in the next chapter, so I'm super excited to post it and get me closer to posting my favorite!  
> Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys!

Chapter Twelve 

Jason led Isabel and Dog into his large office. It was an open space consisting of a seating area with an entertainment center, a massive aquarium that took up most of one wall, bookshelves across a third wall, and a desk in front of large bay windows overlooking the water. Dog immediately ran over and claimed the couch in the seating area. 

Jason chuckled and said, “Make yourself at home, Dog.” 

“She’s quite a lazy thing,” Isabel confessed. “I’ve tried taking her jogging a few times. She’s good for all of five minutes and then I’m dragging her butt the rest of the time.” 

“Thanks for taking care of her while I worked things out.” Jason smiled and reached for Isabel’s hands. “I’m really glad you came. I didn’t think you would...not with my crazy life and how things ended...” 

“Shut up, Jason.” Isabel placed a finger over his lips. Then she leaned in and kissed him softly. 

Jason’s eyes widened in shock. As the kiss broke off, he leaned back and looked curiously at Isabel. “So, what was that?” 

Blushing a little, Isabel tucked her hair behind one ear. “It was maybe we can start over? Maybe Jason Todd can just be Jason Todd and leave the international outlaw life behind?” 

The smile on Jason’s face faltered and then all together slipped away. His gaze moved away from Isabel’s hopeful expression. “Isabel,” he started quietly. “There’s so much you don’t know...about me...about my life.” 

“So, tell me,” she urged, placing a hand on his cheek and drawing his head back to face her. “What happened that led a son of Bruce Wayne to become the Red Hood?” 

Looking into her blue eyes, Jason struggled, “It’s a really long and ugly story. You’ll wish you never...” He couldn’t finish that thought, because he knew it was true. As soon as Isabel found out who Jason Todd really was underneath this façade, she would run as far away as she possibly could from him...and Jason wouldn’t be able to blame her. “I’m not a good guy,” he finished softly. 

“I don’t believe that,” she answered back, just as soft but with a firmness in her voice. 

Jason broke away from her piercing scrutiny, tilting his head so he was looking up somewhere above her head. “I wasn’t always Red Hood. I was someone else before...I wore a different mask when I was younger, here in Gotham. I was one of the _good_ guys.” 

Isabel frowned in thought. “A different mask when you were younger?” Then understanding dawned on her face. “Robin? As in Robin, the Boy Wonder?” 

Snorting harshly, Jason nodded but remained silent. 

“But if you were Robin...” Isabel shook her head in disbelief. “Is Bruce Wayne really your father?” 

“He adopted me. My real father was nothing more than a thug.” Jason tried his best to keep the bitterness out of his tone, but it still seeped through in his words. “The first 12 years of my life were not pretty. I grew up with an abusive dad. My mom loved me, but she was an addict. Her last two years were...awful. I watched her slowly kill herself. My welfare was secondary to her next fix. Dad was thrown in jail and Mom was dead by the time I was ten. I spent two years as a homeless kid in the worst part of Gotham.” 

“So how did you end up with Bruce?” 

Jason allowed a melancholy smile. “He caught me stealing the tires off his favorite car, which...long story short led to me being adopted and becoming the second Robin.” 

Giving a crooked grin, Isabel deduced, “Which means Bruce Wayne is really Batman?” 

“Yeah, but you can’t tell anyone,” Jason smirked, pointing a playful finger at her. 

Laughing, Isabel grabbed his finger. “Okay, but how did you go from squeaky, clean Robin to the big, bad Red Hood?” 

Jason opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a loud crash and violent rumbling through the casino building. 

“What was that!?” Isabel shouted in a shaken voice above Dog’s ferocious barking. 

“Stay, girl!” Jason commanded. Then he grasped one of Isabel’s hands. “Come on!” He said as he dragged her out into the hallway. 

Wingman was quickly making his way toward them. “There was an explosion on the south wall!” 

“Explosion?” Jason questioned. He started to go out the door to the main casino floor, when Wingman grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Boss, it’s my job to keep you safe,” the large bodyguard said. 

Jason pulled his arm out of the other man’s grip. “It’s my job to make sure this casino has a reputation as a safe and good place of business here in Gotham! I can handle myself! You protect Isabel!” 

“Jason! No, don’t...” Isabel started to plead. 

“I’ll be alright, Isabel. Let Wingman keep you safe.” With that, Jason walked out into the now chaotic casino floor. 

*** 

Bruce was playing a game of blackjack at a table with Dick and Tim when the explosion happened. Years of training kept the three men from running in the opposite direction as other patrons were now in the process of doing, crying out in dismay and shock. 

“What was that?” Tim yelled, looking at the gaping hole in the south wall. 

Then through the dust, five shadowed figures emerged. 

Dick gaped and pointed, “Is that...?” 

“The Five Aces,” Bruce growled. 

“What are they doing here?” Dick questioned. “Is Penguin trying to take the Iceberg back? I didn’t think he was around Gotham anymore!” 

It was just as Bruce feared. His hands were tied. Here he was as Bruce Wayne supporting his son Jason Todd. His Batman persona would be compromised if he started to use it to “protect” Jason’s personal projects. Nightwing, Red Robin...even Spoiler would be in the same situation tonight. But how could he sit by and not do anything while innocent lives were in danger. 

Suddenly, Suzie Su and her sisters stepped forward and engaged the villainous group. In the exchange, Bruce heard the reason for the attack. Penguin had not been in contact in two weeks. The Five Aces were instructed to find Cobblepot and protect him if the crime boss had not sent a message or signal for that length of time. The Su sisters were holding their own, pretty much. Stephanie was out on the balcony helping Miguel, who was quickly guiding patrons out of harm’s way and sending little brick lifeboats to shore. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce watched as Jason entered the main floor. As soon as he hit the room, Bruce noticed that Jason actually stopped and shuddered, blinking as though something unseen had interacted with him. He followed Jason’s sharp eyes as they scanned the room and then rested on the leader of the gang, Ace. It was then that Bruce realized Ace was having the same kind of reaction to Jason. Weird. Without exchanging words or gestures, Jason and Ace took off to a more secluded part of the casino. 

Bruce moved to follow, only to have Tim snag his sleeve. He glowered back at him. 

“You can’t! You have to let him handle it!” Tim stated. 

“What if...” 

“No, Bruce! Jason knows what he is doing! We promised!” The younger man’s expression was taut with conviction. 

“I didn’t promise to stand by and do nothing while his life is in danger!” Bruce declared, starting to pull away from Tim’s tight clutch on his tux sleeve. 

Dick suddenly appeared in front of him and placed a hand on Bruce’s chest. “He knows we’re here. If he needs us, he’ll let us know. Until then, Jason’s got this. We’ve got to trust he’s got this.” 

Bruce clenched his jaw and growled in frustration, but stopped trying to move. 

Suzie Su and her sisters soon had the other four gang members subdued. She briskly walked over to the three men. “Did you see where Jason ran off? I think he has someone on his tail.” 

“They went that way,” Tim said, with a nod of his head to indicate the direction. He still had a hand tight on Bruce’s arm. As soon as Suzie was out of hearing, he whispered to Bruce, “Jason’s got back up now. It’s going to be alright.” 

Bruce nodded mutely. He didn’t know what else to say or do. How could he have been so stupid to allow Jason to try and pull off something so crazy as taking over the Iceberg Lounge? 

*** 

As soon as Jason had stepped back out onto the casino floor, he felt the ominous presence of a soul from the All-Caste. He had learned in his time at the Thousand Acres of All that the souls of the All-Caste gave off a particular smell. Those who were loyal to the order and worked to rid the world of the Untitled had a light smoky, earthy scent. It reminded him of bonfires and fall. Something warm and outdoorsy. 

But the treacherous souls, the ones that used their powers and skills for personal gain, stunk of rancid meat. It was nauseating and overpowering. This is the pungent smell that attacked Jason’s senses as he took in the battle raging across the room. His eyes narrowed in on the tall lanky figure with solid black eyes. He knew that he must take this fight to a more private location. He didn’t need someone to accidentally see Jason Todd, son of Bruce Wayne, battling it out with a pair of swords with another soul, only to disappear into an astral plain and either emerge as the victor or never to return as the loser. 

No, Jason needed to avoid that all together. So, he ran deep into the storage area of the casino, knowing this smelly, disgusting soul would follow him. 

“Red Hood. Jason Todd.” The evil soul rasped, hot on his heels in pursuit. “They...spoke of you. You are the Chosen One,” it snarled, his sword brandishing in the light. 

“Sucks for you,” Jason snarked back, drawing the All Blades, feeling his blood gush from the shallow wounds the swords ripped open as they manifested. He actually hated to be called that...Chosen One. He hated having the pressure of being told what he should be or could be or needed to be. 

“She never should have trained you in our ways! You were an affront to everything we held dear.” The evil soul struck out with his sword in a frenzy of angry strikes, sending them into the spiritual plain. 

Jason parried and struck back. “Says the yutz working for Penguin. Spare me your hypocrisy!” 

The evil soul growled as he kicked out, hoping to sweep Jason off-balance. His blade pushed back on the All-Blades that were crossed over it. The black-eyed creature was able to quickly duck and swing into a side step, breaking the contact. He shoved into Jason’s shoulder, giving himself distance to lower his sword, aiming for Jason’s now exposed side. 

Jason allowed the push, but continued to roll back out of the way of his opponent’s thrust. He felt his own righteous fury building as the fight continued. Why couldn’t anything go right for him for once? He had bought the Iceberg Lounge legally. He was running the casino legally. He hadn’t even been going out as Red Hood lately, but even if he was...he had been sticking to the rules. Not only all of that, but he had just been in a very hopeful conversation with Isabel. He really did like her... 

Why couldn’t the universe just give him a break? Why did it always just seem to fall apart right when things were going so well? In that moment, all his anger and hurt and pain...Penguin, Willis, Bruce, Artemis, Bizarro, Roy, Sanctuary... He allowed himself to use it, just as Ducra had taught him. The fear, pain, grief, anger...all the darkness flowed through him and into the All Blades. 

“Everyone thinks I should do things _their way_!” Jason ground out. “The only thing they have in common...” He struck out and disarmed the evil creature. “...is that they’re wrong!” His blades came down and struck true. Within seconds, he was back at the casino. The All Blades disappeared and he stood breathing hard in a swirl of smoke. 

“Jason! Boss!” Suzie ran over to him, relief on her face. “Thank God you’re okay!” 

“You’re sisters?” Jason asked, still out of breath. He walked over to a storage shelf and plucked up a bottle of water from a case. 

“All good.” Suzie took in the room suspiciously. “I thought I saw one of the Aces follow you. Wonder where he went?” 

“Not a clue,” Jason said, then took a swig of water. “Let’s just be glad all our people came out okay.” 

Suzie watched as the last bit of smoke cleared the room. “Sure, Boss.” 

Jason gave her arm a pat as he walked past her. “We need to get maintenance on this right away. Miguel can help repair the south wall...at least temporarily.” 

“Of course,” Suzie responded, following him. 

*** 

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief when Jason stepped back into view. He scanned his son for any sign of injuries, but only saw a few shallow scratches. Even so, Jason looked extremely weary, like he had just gotten finished with a very busy patrol after being awake for three days straight. Bruce’s attention turned to the rest of the casino. The Gotham City Port Authority had arrived and were hauling out four of the Five Aces to their patrol boats. Bruce wondered about the fifth one and if Jason had him secured in the back. The younger man seemed in no hurry to alert the officers if that was the case. 

Dick and Tim still stood close to Bruce, but of course were no longer needing to restrain him. Both younger men watched silently at the pockets of activity around them. Stephanie and Miguel joined their congregated group in the middle of the casino. Miguel frowned at the mess made by the earlier confrontation. 

“Guess we need to check our insurance plan. This is going to be awful for our premiums. First night open and half the Casino is destroyed. We’re lucky no one was injured.” Miguel raised an eyebrow as the Su sisters limped by, a few audible moans from them. “Well, no patrons were injured,” he clarified, taking a tablet out and tapping on it. 

Jason had finally made his way over to them. He had his phone out and was texting someone. When he finished, he looked up and gave a tired smile. “Sorry about all of this.” Jason waved his hand toward the gaping hole and debris. “Guess we need stronger walls.” 

“What happened to the fifth Ace?” Bruce questioned, before he could stop himself. 

Jason huffed and muttered, “I took care of it.” 

“Took care of it?” Bruce narrowed his eyes. “How?” 

Glancing around and noting who was in the knot of people listening, Jason finally answered, “He wasn’t human, okay, Bruce? The All-Blades took care of it...and that means he was a purely evil spirit. So, there’s nothing left. He’s gone.” Drawing in another exhausted breath, he said, “Look, I know we need to talk. I know we need to sort through all of this. That’s fine. Why don’t all of you go to my office and I’ll be there in a few minutes? I’m going to go say bye to Isabel and then I’ll be there.” 

“I’m going to leave the male bonding experience to the rest of you,” Stephanie announced. “I’ve got an early class tomorrow and this was enough excitement for my evening off.” She gave Jason a quick hug. “It really was a wonderful opening night until the party crashers arrived.” 

“Thanks, Steph,” Jason returned. As she walked away, he turned to Miguel, “I’m guessing you are already starting to assess the damage? Think you can make a temporary wall for us?” 

“I’m on it!” Miguel stepped away to start working on overseeing the clean-up and building the necessary wall. 

Wingman appeared escorting Isabel toward Jason. Turning to his family, he grinned, “And this is your cue...see you in the office in about ten minutes?” 

Dick rolled his eyes and smirked, “Yeah, go get your goodnight kiss. We won’t stand around embarrassing you.” With that, the three other men moved away, but not before Tim smacked a kissy face back at Jason. 

Shaking his head good-naturedly, Jason walked over to meet Isabel part way. “You alright?” he asked, concern in his eyes. 

“Yes, of course,” Isabel answered immediately. “You?” 

“I’m fine,” Jason said. “Not even a scratch.” 

“Well, that’s not true,” Isabel pointed out, as she reached out a hand to inspect the cuts peeking out through the tears on the sides of Jason’s suit. 

“Oh, that’s nothing. Not even bleeding anymore. Just a couple of scrapes,” Jason mumbled, fiddling with his torn clothes. He glanced back up and placed a hand on one of Isabel’s arms. “I’m sorry for all of this...it’s not how I planned for tonight to end.” 

“Jason, it’s okay. I can’t blame you for this. I know you had nothing to do with this attack.” She gave a short laugh. “It’s Gotham. Something like this happens every other week!” 

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s definitely a Gotham thing. Maybe I should relocate to Metropolis...” Then rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he added, “But then I would have to worry about an alien invasion every month.” 

Isabel giggled at his silliness. The smile remained on her face and in her eyes as she said, “I’m really glad I decided to come see you tonight. I hope we can finish our talk sometime soon. I like getting to know you, Jason Todd.” 

“Me, too,” Jason spoke meaning to agree that he was happy she was here and that he wanted to continue their conversation. Then he realized how it sounded with the last thing Isabel had said to him. He blushed a little with embarrassment. “I like getting to know you, too!” 

More giggling erupted from Isabel. Then for the second time that evening, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on Jason’s lips. 

As Jason kissed her back, he wondered how a night could go so wrong and so right all at the same time. 

*** 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat Family deals with Oswald Cobblepot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admission: I love this chapter! It was fun to write! Most of it was already written for several weeks now, so that's why it's ready so soon after Chapter 12. I hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Again, just remember sliding timeline and close ties to the whole Penguin/Iceberg Lounge storyline in the RHatO comics.

Chapter Thirteen

Jason entered his office and took in the scene with a bit of mirth. He spied Bruce  perusing the bookshelves, studying the titles as if it were a case to crack wide open. Over by the aquarium, Dick was carrying on a one-sided conversation with the fish. Sitting beside Dog on the couch, Tim had started up a game at the entertainment center. Jason smirked as he remembered Tim’s eagerness to help him set-up this part of his office.

Drawing in a deep breath, Jason made his way to the center of the room. He had wished that opening night would have gone better than  erupting into one of Gotham’s notorious costumed attacks. The saving grace of the whole fiasco was that quite frankly it was fairly common place for galas and charities to end with some sort of crazy debacle in Gotham. Also, it helped that his team worked quickly and avoided any serious injuries among the patrons of the Iceberg Lounge. Overall, opening night was not a complete upset.

“Well, Little Wing,  gonna get a second date?” Dick teased as he turned away from the aquarium and walked over to stand by the couch. He reached down to scratch behind Dog’s ears.

Jason shrugged, but a smile tugged at his lips.

Tim had turned off whatever game he was playing and also stood. Seeing his brother’s grin, he ribbed, “Bet he got that kiss.”

“That’s more than you got,” Jason poked back.

“Oooo, that burned,” Dick quipped.

Tim scowled at both his brothers before shooting, “I didn’t see you with a date tonight either, Dick.”

Jason chuckled a bit at his brothers as he walked over to his desk. He stayed in front of it and leaned back, crossing one leg in front of the other. “About tonight,” he began. “I know that it probably wasn’t easy, but I do appreciate all of you letting my people handle it. All in all, I think it went pretty well.”

“You’re right...it was not easy,” Bruce said, as he stepped in closer to the group. He hesitated before continuing, “Are we absolutely sure that this...you owning this...particular casino is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked sharply.

“It’s the Iceberg Lounge. It belonged to Penguin. It comes with a reputation that tends to draw trouble,” Bruce rattled off.

“Yes, and we’re changing that!” Jason argued back.

Bruce gave a short hum of irritation as he flicked his eyes away from Jason.

As he watched his father wrestle with what seemed to be disappointment and anger, Jason did his best to keep his own in check. It was a struggle. They had come a long way from the start of this whole plan, but old hurts and arguments kept resurfacing. Jason had thought Bruce was on board. He thought Bruce was trusting him. And then it hit him like a ton of bricks... “What’s the real problem here, Bruce? You were okay with this until tonight. What’s changed?”

Bruce pursed his lips, his eyes not making contact with any of his sons. He remained quiet for so long that Jason thought he was going to avoid the question. But then, Bruce sighed heavily and allowed his shoulders to sag as he let go of what must have been an exquisite amount of tension. “You’re right. It _ was _ handled well tonight. But what about tomorrow night? What about a week from now? In a month?” Bruce finally looked at Jason. “I just...I don’t want...” he trailed off, unsure of how to express his thoughts.

Tilting his head slightly and allowing a wistful smile, Jason supplied, “You can’t protect me all the time, Bruce. You’ve got to let me face a few dangers. Penguin’s goons are just throwing their last few tantrums. It’s nothing we haven’t seen before. We can handle it.”

Nodding his  acknowledgment , Bruce softly said, “Okay, as long as you’re sure.”

“I am.” Jason straightened up from his perch against the desk. He placed his hands in his pockets. “I really doubt we have  any more trouble  from any of Penguin’s goons though. Word should get out about what happened with the Five Aces tonight.”

“That is a point of concern though,” Bruce started, a questioning glint in his eyes. “Why would the Five Aces come here looking for Penguin? You told me that  Cobblepot had left, gone underground, that you didn’t know where he’s hiding. Why would he not contact his people?”

“ _ Actually _ ,” Jason answered back. “I said I didn’t harm  Cobblepot and I had nothing to do with him leaving Gotham.”

Bruce quirked an eyebrow, but remained silent. Jason’s specific wording was not lost on him.

“It still doesn’t answer why Penguin is apparently MIA with his own gang. Why were the Five Aces looking for him here specifically, especially if he  _ has _ gone underground? They should know that he is not in Gotham anymore,” Dick said, as he sat on the arm of the couch.

Jason bit his lip before supplying, “That’s because I didn’t run him  _ out _ of Gotham.”

“You do realize you’re repeating yourself, right?” Tim questioned, moving to stand by Jason over at the desk.

“Hmm,” Bruce pushed out, expression turning a bit sour. “What are you not telling us?”

Sighing, Jason picked up a remote control, aimed it toward the large aquarium, and clicked a button. Behind the fish tank the opaque blue glass cleared, revealing a one-way viewing wall that showed a small room beyond. There, inside sitting on the floor was Oswald  Cobblepot . He was dressed in dirty stained pajamas and was talking to himself.

“What in the world?” Dick cried, standing to his feet in shock.

“Jason! Is that...?” Tim couldn’t quite finish his question.

For his part, Jason did look a little ashamed. He frowned and stared at the floor. “I didn’t run him  _ out _ of Gotham...I just ran him into his safe room.” Lifting his gaze up, his eyes flicked to Bruce’s for the briefest of moments, before returning to look at the floor again. “When I came here a few weeks ago to start working on opening the casino, he was here. He took off and locked himself in his safe room. It was only a simple matter of hacking into his security system and switching the codes to reverse the lock. It’s basically a nice little prison cell now.”

Tim and Dick’s eyes remained wide and mouths flung open with disbelief.

Bruce sank down on a nearby chair and face-palmed. He took a few deep breaths and then spoke, voice muffled behind his hand, “You chased the Penguin into his own safe room and locked him up?”

“It’s soundproof and I control what he can see and hear. He has his basic needs...a bed, sink, toilet, and a little slot that I can slip food in for him. I suppose he probably needs a shower and clean clothes, but I really hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Jason admitted with a shrug, as if this information made the situation better.

Removing his hand from his face, Bruce asked in a flat tone, “Did you think this was a good idea?”

“I guess...I mean, he just made it too easy,” Jason simply answered.

The room was completely silent for a full minute.

Then quite suddenly, Bruce snorted and shook his head.

Jason looked up alarmed at this reaction. For his part, Bruce fought a grin for a few precious  moments and lost. The older man snorted again and then began to chuckle.

Dick glared at their father. “Are you actually laughing at this?”

Bruce’s shoulders started to shake with laughter. He shook his head and tried to control himself, but every time he caught a glimpse of Jason, he would start snickering all over again.

Before long, Tim started smirking and brought up one of his hands to hold in his soft giggling.

“Bruce, Tim. ..seriously ...he’s holding a man hostage! And you’re laughing about it?” Dick was a little overwhelmed, feeling like he was the only sane person in the room. “What is so funny about this?”

Blinking wet eyes, Bruce tried his best to calm down. Every time he thought he was gaining  control, an image would invade his mind...a rag-tag little boy holding a tire iron. He grimaced, staving off another fit of laughter and pointed his finger toward Jason. “That’s the same boy that stole my tires.” He barely got the words out before bursting into raspy wheezes again.

Poor Tim could barely catch a breath after that. He found himself doubled over, hand on the desk at his side to steady himself as he laughed, tears sliding down his face. It took a few minutes more, but Dick closed his eyes and shook his head as if he were waving a white flag. His lips turned up into a smile and he breathed sharply through his nose stifling his own snickers.

For his part, Jason didn’t know if he should be offended or relieved or even allow himself to laugh at Bruce’s and his brothers’ apparent amusement. He painfully remembered moments like this when he was younger...as Bruce’s son...as Robin...before the Joker... Moments when Bruce would lose himself in laughter at Jason’s antics or jokes. It had been so long since...

Jason dared to look back at Bruce, who was finally settling down a bit. The fond expression on Bruce’s face had Jason’s heartbeat stutter for a second. He felt a corner of his mouth slightly lift in response.

“So, what are we going to do with him?” Dick asked, clearing his throat and motioning his hand toward Penguin and the safe room.

Bruce stood up and spoke, his voice still not quite serious. “That’s up to Jason. It’s his prisoner in his casino. I trust that he will handle it.”

“Wait, you are just going to leave him here with me?” Jason questioned, suddenly apprehensive about the idea.

“Do you want me to do something else?” Bruce countered. “I can always call the police. But then, there would be concerns over kidnapping and hostage holding...things that are generally frowned upon, especially when someone is trying to do things  legally .”

Jason huffed. “I knew you wouldn’t make this easy!”

“I’m not the one who trapped him in that safe room,” Bruce deadpanned. “You said he made it too easy. Usually when something is too easy, it’s not a good path...kind of like lethal force. Easy doesn’t equal the best way.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason muttered, “You just had to bring that up. This has nothing to do with my guns.”

Bruce shrugged, but stayed silent.

Jason considered his options and spoke his thoughts out loud. “The Euro-Bloc has been informed that Penguin is no longer capable of laundering their money. In fact, since losing the casino, Penguin also lost a substantial amount of wealth that didn’t belong to him. If I set him free and share that information with him, he will be forced to go deep underground for a very long time.” Jason shrugged. “It might would keep him out of Gotham longer than the court system would keep him in  Arkham or Blackgate.”

“Possibly,” Bruce remarked. “If that’s how you want to handle it, I’ll be okay with that.”

“I’ll get Miguel to help me escort him out of Gotham,” Jason said, as he thought out loud. “I’ll let Penguin know that he is high on the Euro-Bloc's hit list and send him on his way.”

“Do you want backup?” Dick asked, hopeful look in his eyes.

“As Nightwing?” Jason questioned. “Wouldn’t that be suspicious?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Jason Todd’s brother...Richard Grayson. It might help to say you confided in me, unsure what to do and that we decided to let him go, especially since the Five Aces attacked the casino,” Dick suggested.

Bruce nodded his agreement. “I would rather you take another person to help, just in case there is trouble.”

“Why not make it a brother bonding moment?” Tim suggested with a grin. “All the Wayne boys could go, a united front supporting our brother in his new endeavor. We could say we want to keep  _ Daddy _ out of it. We all know how much  Cobblepot despises the Wayne name and fortune.”

“ _ All _ the Wayne boys?” Bruce quirked an eyebrow. “That means Damian, too?”

Jason smiled smugly, “Of course it does! Heck, we can even include Cass and say the Wayne kids. I like it! We’re like our own little mafia family!”

Bruce groaned. “That’s all we need.”

***

_ Two nights later, 5 miles south of Bristol, open country _

Jason stood in the middle of his siblings, Dick with Damian to his left and Tim and Cassandra to his right. They were dressed in  civvies and stood among a small grove of trees, shadowed in the darkness of night, overlooking rolling hills facing the south, off the interstate between Gotham and Bludhaven.

Miguel  appeared over the rise of a hill with a brick box floating beside him. He stopped beside their little band, setting the brick box down.

“Got the package?” Jason asked.

“Right here. Freshly showered and in clean clothes with a simple non-weaponized umbrella. I even made sure he had a  brand-new eyepatch and a few hundred dollars cash,” Miguel answered happily.

“ _ Tt _ ,” Damian broke in, shaking his head. “More than he deserves. I would have dispatched him just as he was...filthy and  penniless .”

Miguel looked at Damian with a disturbed expression while Tim snorted.

“Thanks Miguel! See you back at the casino.” The younger man gave a mock salute and moved off. Looking around at everyone else, Jason said, “Okay, let’s do this...”

The bricks dissolved away to reveal Oswald  Cobblepot , standing in his new suit, top hat included. He swung up his umbrella defensively. “Waugh?” He looked around at the group of young people flanking him. “What’s going on here?”

Jason cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Mr.  Cobblepot , I want to apologize for keeping you locked away in your safe room. It was wrong of me.”

“Todd?” Penguin questioned as he squinted with his one eye to see in the dark. “Yes, I should say!” He waved the umbrella in Jason’s direction. “You’ll be sorry for what you did! You and the Red Hood! I don’t know what that crazy, gun-wielding freak has on you, but I want nothing to do with him!”

“You...don’t remember?” Jason inquired skeptically.

“I remember that Bat-Brat shot me right in the eye! The details are a bit fuzzy. I’m lucky that my monocle must’ve broke the bullet’s  trajectory . Fortunately, it was only a piece of glass that pierced my brain...I only lost an eye and some of my memory.”

Jason breathed a sigh of relief and could almost feel his family members around him collectively do the same. He had been reckless with not only his on secret identity, but those of the entire Bat family as well. He should have never taken off his helmet and spoke about his father Willis Todd before “shooting”  Cobblepot . Lesson learned.

Cobblepot continued squawking. “Unfortunately for you, I do remember the past two weeks and I’m planning on repaying you in kind for keeping me a hostage in my own casino!”

Ignoring the threat, Jason continued, “Yes, about that...It’s my casino now. After consulting with my siblings, we decided it was best to let you go...especially since your...minions?” At this, he turned as if questioning his siblings, “Exactly what do you call people who work for gang lords?” Then waving his hand to show it was of no consequence, he continued, “Well,  _ your people _ tore the place up looking for you.”

“Gang lord?” Penguin cracked. “I’m not a gang lord! I’m an entrepreneur!”

“Of course, you are,” Dick intoned in a placating voice. “Remember Jason? The Cobblepots were  _ almost _ as important as the  Waynes back in the early days of Gotham. You really should know local history better than that.”

“Almost?” Penguin growled. “The  Cobblepots _ were _ better than the  Waynes ! Gotham would have been nothing without the influence of the  Cobblepot family!”

“It’s such a shame that the  Cobblepot name has come so low. It’s going to end with this sad little man,” Damian declared in the haughtiest of tones. “Penniless and offed by the European Mafia. At least Father has plenty of intelligent heirs to oversee Wayne Enterprises in the future.”

“What are you talking about, you little brat?” Penguin demanded.

Tim moved forward with a concerned frown on his face. “I’m afraid, Mr. Cobblepot, that I’ve heard through the corporate grapevine that the Euro-Bloc has you at the top of their hit list. It seems they blame you for a substantial amount of missing funds. Of course, Wayne Enterprises does not deal with the criminal element...but you can’t run an international corporation without coming across  _ some _ gossip. If  _ I _ were  _ you _ , I would be running scared.”

Penguin gulped, as his eyes widened. “Wait! The Euro-Bloc is looking for me?”

“I’m afraid so,” Jason said with an apologetic shrug. “As a peace offering, we got you all spiffed up and made sure you’ve got a little bit of cash in hand. You’ll at least have a few hours head start.”

“Thirty years of work, down the drain!” Penguin moaned. “I’m ruined!”

“You’re practically dead,” Damian snarked, with a vicious smile.

“Waaugh!” Penguin started to back away, heading toward the distant hills leading to Bludhaven. As he neared the edge of the grove of trees, he pointed his harmless umbrella back at Jason. “I’ll be back to deal with you, Todd! What’s mine is mine!” Then he continued to run off into the night.

“Tell me you got all of that,” Jason said, with the slightest of smiles on his face.

Cassandra held up her phone. “All here!”

“Good! Bruce is going to get such a kick out of that!” Jason faced his siblings. “Now, let’s go get something to eat.”

“ BatBurger !” Dick called.

“No! We ate  there last time!” Damian moaned. “I want a good veggie pizza.”

“Italian. You promised a rain check,” Cass insisted, poking at Tim.

Tim nodded and confirmed, “I did, didn’t I?”

As the rest continued to debate their choice of food, Jason breathed contently. He hadn’t realized what a burden it was hiding Penguin away as a hostage...hiding another secret from his family. Now, it felt like he was really starting to free himself from all the baggage of his past. He just wished his friends were here to share in his victories. He missed  Roy so much. The more Jason worked toward their end goal, the more it hurt to think about his best friend.

Then there was Artemis and  Bizarro . He really needed to look into their mysterious disappearance. Maybe he should ask Bruce for the Justice League’s help. Surely someone among their ranks would be able to know what happened and if there was any hope in bringing them back.

Dick clapped an arm across Jason’s shoulders. “You know, Little Wing, I’m proud of you. You’re...doing really good work. I’m glad we’re bat bros.”

Jason glanced over at his older brother’s face. “Thanks, Dick,” he said, ducking his head. Then smirking, he added, “And just for that...I think I’m craving me some  Jokerized fries.”

Dick threw his hands up, victory style. “BatBurger!”

As the siblings moved off together, laughing and groaning at Dick’s excitement, nobody noticed the costumed figure watching from his perch high up on a limb in the  tree line . “I’m proud too, son,” Wingman murmured. 

***


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finally gets to be a detective.  
> Jason, Dick, and Tim have some brother bonding time.  
> Dick and Tim have a much overdue and needed conversation.

Chapter Fourteen 

Bruce walked down the winding staircase leading into the main area of the cave. The past week had been busy. After opening night at the Iceberg Lounge, word moved rapidly through Gotham’s underground that Penguin was missing and his last line of defense had been brought down. It was whispered that Cobblepot was no longer in the city and perhaps was even dead. Everything that his umbrella welding hands had touched was up for grabs by old and new crime bosses alike. Gotham had exploded into tiny turf wars. 

Batman and his associates found themselves in the middle of the crossfire, trying to keep civilian casualties low and helping the police contain and round up the gangs. Jason and his crew at the Iceberg Lounge had their own troubles. Nothing happened quite as bad as with the Five Aces, but every night brought in a few of Gotham’s mafia leaders and crime lords hoping to stake out a working relationship with the new owner of the Iceberg. Jason found himself being offered “protection” and ways to earn “money under the table” if he would provide money laundering services or kickbacks for special favors. 

In between running across rooftops from one firestorm to the next, Batman would fret about his second son and his constant exposure to powerful men and women of Gotham’s biggest crime organizations. Of course, Red Hood had dealt with some of these same criminal empires for years. But he had done so as a crime lord himself, using the same vicious methods. Red Hood had fought fire with fire. Now, it was different. Jason was not operating as Red Hood. He did not have such a formidable and dominant reputation as his alter ego had in Gotham’s underbelly. That fact complicated the situation. 

With a heavy sigh, Bruce sat down in front of the large computer system. It was Jason’s operations and his circle of “friends” that had his attention this afternoon. With the relentless activity of the past week, Bruce had placed his concerns over Wingman on the back burner. However, the bad feeling and his suspicious thoughts about the man never went away and was always nagging at the back of his mind. It was time to figure out exactly who “Wingman” really was (even though Bruce was pretty certain) and exactly why “Wingman” had suddenly popped into Jason’s life at this particular time. 

Bruce pulled up a file he had not opened in almost a decade. There was an extensive criminal record that dated 25 years’ worth of activity throughout the Narrows and stretching over into Crime Alley. At least a decade of that had been linked to high profile rogues: Two-Face, Riddler, Scar-Face, and Penguin. Bruce clicked on the file photos. His screen instantly flooded with several mugshots. He sat back, staring at the multiple images of Willis Todd, showing a unique age progression from 16 to 29 years old. Frowning, Bruce could not help but notice the similarities between Jason and the younger photos of his biological father, mostly in the shape of their faces and the dark hair. However, there were two distinct differences: eye color and expression. Willis had dark hazel eyes and his expression was hardened. Jason had blue-green eyes and had always had a more open expression...the years had toughened him for sure, but even the pit had not been able to erase all of the boy’s softness away. 

Studying the images of Willis, Bruce tried his best to debunk his theory. Willis had been lanky and thin. He was not a bulky or muscled man. He had been killed in Blackgate. Two-Face had ordered the hit to ensure that Willis would not rat him out and turn State’s evidence in favor of a plea bargain. Guards had witnessed the attack. There was even a grainy video surveillance of the incident. An autopsy had been conducted and Willis had been buried at the penitentiary cemetery. A priest, two guards, and four inmates (to dig the hole and lower and cover the casket) had attended a hasty service during a torrential downpour. Bruce viewed all of these things again. It had been such an open and shut case. He remembered years ago when he first brought a small, starving boy home to the Manor...Bruce had checked all of the evidence out. He had wanted to be sure that Jason was safe. He remembered talking to Jason about his biological father and how the boy seemed to be relieved that Willis was dead. Jason rarely mentioned Willis at all when he came to live with Bruce. It was as if the boy wanted to blot out any connection that man had in his life. 

However, quite recently, Jason had come across very conflicting evidence. He had briefly shared with Bruce the content of the letters that Willis had sent him back when he had first been incarcerated. According to those, Willis had been set up by Penguin and his death had been faked in order to be a guinea pig at a lab. Jason had taken the first step investigating this incredible tale by visiting the gravesite at the penitentiary. He discovered that it _was_ actually empty. 

Now thinking back and sifting through the file, Bruce started to realize that perhaps the case of Willis Todd had been too easy, too neatly wrapped up. It was the kind of case that had everything so perfectly packaged that no questions needed to be asked...and maybe that was because someone did not want questions _to_ be asked...maybe it was time for Bruce to start asking... 

*** 

“So, what exactly are we doing?” Dick stood in the doorway of the saferoom located in Jason’s office at the Iceberg Lounge. His face was contorted in thinly veiled unease. 

“We’re exorcising Cobblepot’s...grossness...” Jason snarled, lips curled in disgust. “We’re gonna make it a safer saferoom for me,” he stated, as he liberally sprayed disinfectant around the small room. 

Tim smirked and then coughed as the fumes from the disinfectant choked him. He waved off the cloud around his face and leaned against the bed as he caught his breath. Then, a thought entered his mind. “What about this?” Tim pointed down to the cot. “Think you can have some sweet dreams on this thing?” 

“No!” Jason exclaimed, with a startled look. “That, we burn!” Sighing and glancing around, he shared his vision, “I don’t want someone to take advantage of me the same way I took advantage of Penguin.” Pointing to the wall that was hidden behind the aquarium, he said, “I’m thinking a smart table that I can use to control the casino...everything that’s technology based in the Lounge, including the security locks to this room should be accessible from here. Tim, I’ll put you and Babs in charge of that. Like I said, burn the bed or maybe even blow it up...replace it with a Murphy bed/couch combo and shelves. Gut that bathroom and reconfigure a few things so I can add a small shower.” Crossing his arms and frowning, Jason asked, “Do you think there’s enough room for a kitchenette in here?” 

“What about expanding it a bit?” Dick knocked on the back wall. “What’s the next room over? A few feet out and there should be plenty of space at least for a small fridge, sink, and microwave.” 

“That might work...I think it’s a storage space. We’ll have to double check.” Jason nodded his head as he continued to survey the space. “Oh, and I want a back door. It doesn’t have to be much. Like double use of the ventilation system or something? Just a way I can get out and not be completely trapped. And the one- way wall thing is backwards. I want to see out, not people seeing in.” 

“What about a false floor? If there’s room for that underneath here, you could actually hide your Red Hood stuff there,” Tim suggested. 

Jason’s eyes widened and he snapped his fingers. “You know, I think it’s the boat dock that’s under our feet! There might be more than a few feet of room! I think we could actually make this two-story!” 

Dick snorted and said, “Before you’re finished, you’ll have an entire apartment in here.” 

Jason shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not really sure why I’m putting so much planning into this. It’s not like this is a long-term deal. Honestly, Penguin is gone, that was the only reason I bought it...to get him out of Gotham. That’s done. So now what?” 

“Why not stay?” Tim questioned. “It’s a great set-up for you. I know we all have trust funds and Bruce doesn’t mind sharing his money, but it is nice not to have to be constantly answerable to _Daddy Warbucks_ and how you’re spending his billions.” 

Giving a curious peek, Dick asked Tim, “Bruce keeps tabs on how you spend his money? That’s a bit hypocritical since for the past year you’ve been practically doing his job for him.” 

Shrugging, Tim answered, “I know that he does read over budgets and takes a look at the funds he sets aside for certain extracurricular activities. And as far as my job at WE, I _do_ get a paycheck. I don’t work for free.” With a smirk growing on his lips, he added, “I’ve got a pretty good chunk of change, actually.” 

Jason gave Tim a careful once-over with his eyes. “I really hope you never go to the dark-side. We’d be doomed.” 

Tim turned his head away and swallowed hard, gaze turning distant. Remembering the time he met his future self, the crazy Batman, he muttered, “Let’s hope.” 

Dick and Jason shared a concerned glance. 

“Tim? Something you want to share?” Dick asked, moving to place a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. 

Tim waved him off. The only person he had shared that experience with was Stephanie. He was not inclined to discuss a future he was determined to avoid with anyone else. “It’s nothing.” Taking a deep breath, he brought his attention back to Jason, desperate to skirt around Dick’s question. “Got any major specs you want for this smart table?” 

As the brothers helped drag the bed out of the smaller space into the office area, Jason and Tim began to talk over the technology aspects of the saferoom. 

“I’ll order the table and see if Barbara can help me set it up next weekend,” Tim promised, as he pulled out his phone, already texting Barbara. 

“Speaking of the weekend,” Jason said, turning to Dick. “You do remember we’re going to see that movie. Tim, you can join. But I’ve been looking forward to going for almost a month!” 

Dick’s face fell. “Yeah, Jason, I was going to tell you, but I won’t be able to go. I’ll be out of town this weekend. Something has come up that I can’t get out of.” 

Jason's face morphed through a slew of emotions, starting out surprised, moving onto hurt, and finally settling into a fake smile meant to cover his true feelings. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, Tim spoke up. 

The younger man blurted out, “Ah! There he is! The famously fickle Dick Grayson!” 

Jason looked sharply over at Tim, mouth agape at the uncharacteristic sharp and sarcastic tone. 

Dick frowned and shot back, “What? I’m not fickle! Why are you saying I’m fickle?” 

Tim shrugged. “It’s kinda become your M. O., bro. Just saying.” 

“I’m not fickle!” Dick protested again. 

“Tell me, what’s so important that you can’t keep your plans with Jason?” Tim pressed. “Did some supervillain schedule in a world-wide threat and email you their plans? Or maybe a psychic friend shared their vision of some global disaster that you will personally need to oversee?” Then snapping his fingers, he said sarcastically, “I know! It’s Damian, isn’t it? He’s invited you over to visit his Titans team and won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, because we all know that you can never deny _him_.” 

“I tell Damian ‘no’ all the time!” Dick huffed in irritation. “Are you going to hold Damian over me forever?” 

“Damian?” Tim scoffed. “He’s only part of it. Your fickleness and poor choices go well beyond him,” he added, voice straining. 

Jason moved to stand between his brothers and held out his hands. “Far be it from me to step in the middle of all this...” He glanced back and forth at them. “But I’m fine. Tim, I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. Dick, I’m good. I realize that there are things that pop up in our lives that are more important than a movie. Let’s just finish clearing out the saferoom. Then we can go blow up that nasty bed...I’m sure I can scrounge up some C-4...and then we can go on patrol and take out our frustrations on a few idiots.” Giving a hopeful grin, Jason waved a hand toward the saferoom door. 

With one last infuriated glare, Tim swiftly went back into the saferoom. Dick deflated almost immediately. His shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“I really am sorry, Jason,” Dick apologized, tone soft. “I was planning on talking to you about it later. Really, I was. I had even thought about asking if you wanted to join me...to go with me to...well, now I just feel crappy and I don’t know...” 

“Spit it out, Dickhead,” Jason ordered, a bit exasperated. 

“Wally is being moved to Belle Reve this weekend. I just found out yesterday. I...I just want to...” Dick frowned and let out a deep sigh. “I really want to be there for him, you know?” 

Jason did know. If it were the other way around, he would have dropped everything to be there for Roy. Brothers could hang out and spend time with each other over a lifetime of weeks, months, years. Movies would come and go. Blockbusters played on the big screen every day. But a best friend in need...one facing horrific life-changing circumstances...that was important. Wally needed his best friend. 

Clapping a hand on Dick’s upper arm, Jason said, “Yeah, man! Wally needs you. I may tag along. I’ll think about it.” 

“Thanks, Jason,” Dick responded, voice holding a note of relief. He moved off to the door of the saferoom. 

“I’m on my way,” Jason called. “Just got to get something on my desk.” He watched as Dick moved all the way through the door into the small room. Smiling slyly, Jason picked up the remote on his desk. He pressed a button. The door to the saferoom slipped closed with a distinct click. 

*** 

Tim was fuming. He did not know why he had reacted so bullish toward Dick. It was not like the man was breaking his word to Tim. It was between Jason and Dick. It was their plans that Dick was throwing to the side. Why should Tim care so much? 

He cared because he had witnessed the crushed expression on Jason’s face. It was the same hurt that Tim felt every time Damian threw an insult at him and Dick stood silently by without so much as a word of disagreement. It was the same pain that Tim felt when Dick yanked the Robin emblem off of his chest and handed it over to a snotty-nosed, ten-year-old assassin. It was the same sting that Tim experience when Dick had believed Tim was in denial instead of listening to his theory that Bruce was only lost in time and not dead. 

For years, Tim had idolized Dick Grayson. Bruce had his faults and cracks. Tim knew that from the start...it was the reason he had become Robin. Bruce needed someone to be there to help Batman overcome his weaknesses. Batman needed Robin to ground him. But Dick...Nightwing...he was the ultimate hero. Always true to his word. Always willing to listen. Always encouraging. And he always had Tim’s back. Always. Until Damian. Until they lost Bruce. 

It hurt. Ever since that awful time, when Tim had lost his dad and so many friends and then Bruce, he was reeling. The one person, who Tim was sure he would have been able to count on to be in his corner, had abandoned him at the first sign of hardship. No, Dick Grayson was no longer on a high pedestal in Tim’s eyes. 

Tim marched into the saferoom and took several steadying breaths. He knew that he had overreacted. He knew that he had allowed his careful control over his emotions slip. Sometime in the near future, he knew that he would have to have a serious conversation with Dick about all of his grievances. But not today. Tim needed time to settle his thoughts before that could happen. He needed to be able to catalog and organize his emotions and arguments. If he did not allow his head to wrap around his anger and sadness over the events of the past two years, Tim knew that he would only end up exploding and spewing his misery, sounding pathetic and insane. It would be no better than the conversations he had with Dick at the beginning of their troubles. 

His back was turned to the door when he heard Dick enter. 

“Jason’s grabbing something...” Dick said, rubbing the back of his neck as he passed through the doorway. “Look, Tim...” 

Suddenly the door behind Dick slid closed with a loud click. The older man looked back and tilted his head. He reached his hand out and tried to open the door. “It’s locked,” he said in an incredulous tone. 

“What?” Tim asked dully. 

“Hey Jason! We’re locked in!” Dick called. 

Tim rolled his eyes. “It’s sound proof, Dick. He can’t hear you.” 

“Yes, I can,” Jason voice filtered in on an intercom system. 

“Ha ha, Jay! Funny! Joke’s over. You can unlock us now,” Dick said with a grin. 

“Nope. I’m not.” 

“Jason, really. Open the door,” Tim said, his voice held no lightness. He was not in the mood to deal with whatever Jason was planning to do. 

“I’m going to go work on a few things. Got to talk to my crew about some policy stuff and how to handle things when I’m out patrolling tonight. It should take about half an hour or so. That’s plenty of time for you two to talk it out or duke it out or hug it out or whatever. But it’s quite apparent that there’s something you two need to work out.” 

Tim leaned his head against the wall behind him and blew out a frustrated breath. “What the crap! I really don’t have time for this!” 

“Yes, you do.” Jason sounded unperturbed at his younger brother’s irritated tone. “You told me you had the whole afternoon to help me. So, you have the time. You just don’t want to deal with it. But if I can work on all my mess with Bruce, you and Dick can work on whatever grudge you are both holding against each other. Like I said, I’ll be back in thirty. That’s plenty of time to at least get some of it out in the open.” 

The intercom system cut off. 

Tim slid down the wall and sat on the floor, eyes glaring across at the opposite wall. At this point, he sullenly thought Jason could put in his own stupid smart table. 

Dick walked over and sat down on the floor back to the wall a few feet away from Tim. He stretched out his legs and placed his folded hands in his lap. “It might not hurt to take advantage of our incarceration.” 

Sliding his eyes over, Tim spared Dick a glance. “I’d rather just sit and meditate and plan out how I’m going to murder my brothers...all my brothers.” 

A small smile formed on Dick’s face. “Can’t say I blame you.” Then ducking his head, he said, “I understand why you’re mad at me. I know I hurt you, Tim. I know I made a lot of mistakes and a great many of those mistakes affected you directly.” 

“You pushed me out. You treated me like I was expendable. You chose Damian over me.” Tim’s voice was flat. He kept his eyes on his hands. “I felt abandoned. Seems like that’s the story of my life.” 

Dick shook his head. “Tim, I never meant to make you feel that way. You have every reason to be mad. I broke my promise to you, to always be there. I’m so sorry.” Dick pursed his lips and sat up a bit straighter. “But even though you may have felt expendable, you are anything but expendable. You are a vital part of my life...of our family...inside and outside of the costume.” 

Tim turned to look at Dick. “If I were vital as Robin, why did you take it away from me?” 

“I didn’t see it as taking it away.” Dick searched for how to say what he felt. “You’re such a freakin’ genius, Tim. You use your head to make decisions. You decide your actions based on data and analysis and spreadsheets and algorithms. But I’m not like that. I go with my heart, my emotions, what feels right. At the time, I felt like Damian needed to be kept close, so I could keep my eye on him. You...I didn’t have to worry about you going and being reckless and chopping off heads. If I had to choose one of you to be Robin by my side every night, I had to choose Damian to make sure he didn’t hurt himself or someone else.” Shrugging, Dick continued, “And you are the age I was when I started to feel like maybe I was outgrowing Robin. I know I didn’t say it...maybe I should have...but I really thought you would maybe want to become your own man...I didn’t want to have us go through the same hurtful arguments that Bruce and I had when I was trying to push out on my own and he was trying to keep me from growing up.” 

“I didn’t want to _leave,_ Dick. I wasn’t ready. I had lost so much, I didn’t want to lose any more. You and Alfred were all that was left. I didn’t want to leave, but I felt pushed out,” Tim explained. 

“I really am sorry, Tim. I wish I could go back. I wish I could change it. Do it different. But hindsight is 20/20, right?” Dick scooted over, closer, shoulder touching shoulder. “I never meant to abandon you. You were my first true brother. I didn’t really get a chance to know Jason like a brother _before.”_ The words _‘he died’_ went unsaid. “That’s my cross to bear _with him_. I’m trying to make that up, too.” Bumping slightly into Tim’s shoulder with his own, Dick said, “But you, we’ve been brothers from the start. I don’t want to lose you, Timbo. It’s been lonely without you.” 

Tim felt pin-pricks behind his closed eyelids. He nodded carefully. “I know. I’ve missed you, too. And to be fair, I know that when I left, you probably felt abandoned, too. But...” He was not sure how to word the next part...not sure how far he could push Dick to truly understand how hurtful Damian’s actions were...and still could be...and how Dick’s apathy cut deep. “I need you to know that a lot of my anger and hurt comes from you not standing up for me against Damian. I know he’s had a hard life, that it’s not his fault that he was raised surrounded by assassins...but by saying nothing, you’re telling him it’s okay and you’re telling me that he’s right.” 

Dick opened his mouth as if to protest. Tim held up his hand to silence him. 

“In my head, I know that’s not your intentions, but it feels that way. It feels like another kind of abandonment. I just need you to understand that.” 

Dick leaned his head back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. He frowned and then nodded. “You’re right. I’ve been using the excuse _‘pick your battles’_ to stay silent when Damian insults others, especially when it’s you and Jason. That’s got to stop.” 

Tim’s eyes were watery, but he was able to blink it away before tears could escape. “Thanks, Dick.” 

Dick threw his arm across Tim’s shoulders and pulled his younger brother against his side. “Don’t you dare tell Jason I said this, but I’m glad he locked us up in this saferoom.” 

“We’re still going to deck him when he unlocks the door, right?” Tim demanded. 

Dick scoffed, “Yeah!” Then added with a mischievous grin, “And then we’re going to hug it out!” 

At that, Tim chuckled as a genuine smile broke out on his face. It was the first time in over a year that Tim really felt like maybe he was a part of a family again. 

*** 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman is keeping secrets again...with good intentions...but who knows how that's going to turn out?  
> Nightwing makes good on a promise, but does Robin really get it?  
> Batman investigates some more.  
> Red Hood...well, he only thought he had it all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few warnings for this chapter...  
> Domestic violence scene implied drunken father figure, abused mother and child, and also abuse towards a puppy.
> 
> There is mention of a Kesagiri sword strike. It is a downward diagonal slash across the shoulder down through the chest. If the sword is sharp enough, it can break through the clavicle and sternum bones in order to reach the heart, causing instant death. However, if the bones do not break, the arteries can take up to 60 minutes to bleed out. That's very simplified...if you need more detailed info, google it. It really doesn't play that big of a role here. It's just mentioned.
> 
> And I also use Agatha Zorbatos, Warden of Blackgate in this chapter. She may appear again later on down the road. I don't really know her character that well. I'm mainly using her as a source for information for Batman, so her cameos will be brief and to the point.

Chapter Fifteen

Batman finished pulling on his gauntlet, a faraway look in his eyes. After spending his afternoon pouring over a decade of  Blackgate Penitentiary's obituaries, particularly in the year of, and those prior to and after the death of Willis Todd, the detective had a lot to mull over in his head. There had been no glaring pattern that Batman could discern. Nothing that would draw a suspicious eye to investigate. In fact, the records for at least six consecutive years, the fourth of which being the year of Willis’ death, were squeaky clean...meticulous even.  _ That _ was odd. One would expect that at least a few questionable incidents would be detectable in that stretch of time.

“Father.”

Drawn out of his thoughts, Batman turned to face his young son.

“I wish to go on patrol with you tonight.” Damian was stepping out of the locker area of the cave. He was dressed completely in his Robin uniform, except for his domino mask which he held in his hands. “Grayson has been distracting with his constant chatter this week. I wish to have a quiet evening with my own thoughts.”

Batman smirked. He understood what his youngest son was saying...Dick was smothering him. Damian needed some alone time. He could sympathize with his current Robin. Batman could remember plenty of nights throughout his vigilante life where he found himself thin on patience with his first Robin and his running commentary. It could be distracting. It could be overwhelming. It could quite frankly be aggravating, especially for those who preferred to work in silence.

However, Batman had learned how to deal with Dick’s constant jabber. In fact, he had learned to even enjoy it at times. Still, he knew that Damian had perhaps reached the end of his rope. Placing a hand on his son’s shoulder, he said, “I would gladly allow you to patrol with me, but I have something that I need to investigate alone this evening. Besides, I thought Tim and Jason were going to be with you and Dick tonight. Maybe Dick won’t be so overbearing with your other brothers present.”

Damian sighed loudly. “Actually, Drake and Todd only make it worse. I can tolerate Todd’s violent  tendencies . If he begins to exhibit rabid behavior, I am well equipped to  immobilize him. However, Drake is most bothersome and distressing with his  ineptitude .”

Batman rolled his eyes behind his white lenses. “Jason’s not rabid, Damian. And, Tim is not inept. You may not like the way he gets the job done, but that does not mean he is any less capable or valuable than you or anyone else here. He is  highly trained and a genius and quite frankly a greater detective than myself.”

The boy scowled and crossed his arms. “It is because I respect you, Father, that I will not call to question whatever benevolent reasons you think so favorably of Drake. Therefore, I will not linger on his many flaws. I shall only strive to work harder, so my strengths help you to see true greatness and not a cheapened version of it, such as Drake’s.”

Giving a small shake of his head, Batman steered his youngster toward the Batmobile. “Perhaps tomorrow we will go out as the dynamic duo. Come on. Let’s go meet up with your brothers.”

***

Batman dropped Robin off at the top of Wayne Tower. In the brief time that he had been with his three oldest sons, he could tell that something had happened between them.  _ What _ exactly had transpired was beyond him. However, he noticed that  Nightwing was noticeably calm, Red Robin appeared less tense than normal, and Red Hood seemed...content. It was nice to observe all his sons, together and not at each other’s throats or nervously sizing up the one standing next to them.

Well, Robin was the exception to this rule tonight, as he stood amidst his older siblings, his body rigid with agitation. Maybe Batman should have let Robin tag along with him and leave his older brothers to patrol without a mini powder keg to ruin such a tranquil evening. Then again, Batman’s mission was a private one, at least for the moment. It would do no good for Jason to catch wind of what Batman was doing...investigating Willis Todd’s apparent death. He was building trust with Jason. If Jason thought that the  tenuous faith between them was fraying, it could cause those ties to snap completely and land the father and prodigal son right back to doubting each other and every intention to unite them again.

It was this concern that drove Batman to quietly seek out the truth about Willis Todd and the possible connection to Wingman. If he approached Jason without being sure about his suspicions, it could needlessly hurt his son. Yet, if it was as he suspected, then Batman did not want Jason to do something that he would regret. The news needed to come from the right source at the right time, in order to allow Jason time and space to accept the truth. Batman needed to do this as silently as possible.

As Batman steered the Batmobile away from Wayne Tower, he told himself that it was best to leave Robin with his older brothers and hope that their good mood would be a positive influence on the frowning boy.

***

“So how are we doing this?” Red Hood walked away from the edge of the roof, where he had watched the tiny speck that was the Batmobile move off toward the southeast.

“We could pair up,” Red Robin suggested. “One group could swing west through Chinatown up through Lower Gotham by St. Luke’s and on up to Robinson Park, while the other group could go east through Old Gotham, the Fashion District, up to Little Italy. Maybe meet up and go into Crime Alley and the Narrows from there?”

Nightwing nodded his head. “Sounds good to me.”

“What about the area around  Arkham Island and Coventry or over around the Docks?” Robin questioned. “Drake’s routes leave those areas without coverage.”

“Red Robin’s routes keep us close to all districts and the main areas in which crime occurs in the city,”  Nightwing pointed out.

“So ‘Wing, which  runt’s with you?” Red Hood asked, losing patience with the inactivity.

“I don’t know...Red, have you had enough of me today or do you think we could surf some trains together?” Nightwing moved closer to Red Robin.

Robin grunted and allowed his lip to curl in disgust. “I suppose it is necessary for Drake and Todd to both have a competent partner. If we put the two simpletons on the same route, we might not...”

“Robin!”

The current Boy Wonder clipped his mouth shut.

Nightwing had used  _ his _ Batman voice.  Nightwing _ never _ used  _ his _ Batman voice outside of the cowl. And he rarely used  _ that _ voice to reprimand Robin, unless the boy was being too careless or merciless in a tense situation.

“Your brothers are not simpletons. You know that and they know that and I know that. Both of them have been out in this field doing this work longer than you have...”  Nightwing held up a hand to quell the argument on Robin’s lips. “Hush and listen! I know that you were training in diapers, but that was as an assassin, which is a totally different skill set. And quite frankly being an heir apparent gave you an advantage over everyone else around you in the League of Assassins. You had private tutors and everyone was expected to treat you with the utmost respect and bow to the whims of your mother and grandfather.

“Our training field was not so tolerant,” Nightwing indicated himself and his next two brothers. “We had to earn that respect, not just from Batman, but from all of Gotham’s under world and we had to do it following the code that Batman expects us to stick by, which is not always the easiest course of action. And we did it all while balancing our lives outside of the cave. You never had to separate your life from the League.

“I know it’s hard. We don’t always understand how hard it is for you to learn how to live in a world outside of an  assassin's code and away from your grandfather and mother. But we faced hardships too. We still do. And we have overcome adversities you will never understand. Just because you feel as though you are more superior because of your bloodlines, it doesn’t give you free reign to insult your brothers or anyone for that matter. And just so you know, when you insult them, you insult me and your dad. We decided they were worthy and we trained them. We brought them into this family. Do you understand?”

Before Robin could even form a shocked reply, there was a loud clearing of a throat.

“Um...in all honesty, you didn’t train me,” Red Hood stated, crossing his arms.

“Hood,”  Nightwing moaned, exasperated by the interruption of a very important conversation.

“What? It’s true! Maybe if you had helped train me, I wouldn’t have gotten myself...dead.” Ignoring his oldest brother’s groan, Red Hood turned toward Robin. “But to ‘Wing’s point, I am highly trained. Even more so than you and that’s thanks to your dear mother. Should we insult her, as well? I’m also the only Robin present or absent that was trained extensively in the same way as Daddy Bats. So, your little insults and prattling don’t mean a thing to me, at all.”

The youngest vigilante of the group took in a calming breath, a neutral expression morphing over his face. “My apologies for insulting Father.”

Red Robin shook his head and patted  Nightwing on the shoulder. “Good try. I appreciate the effort. And to answer your earlier question, I think train surfing across the west side of Gotham might be a great way to de-stress...for both of us.”

“Well, it looks like the two ex-assassins are headed east,” Red Hood said, as he flapped Robin’s hood down over the youngster’s eyes. “Let’s see how many heads we can avoid decapitating in the name of justice.”

Yanking his hood over his head to hang at the back of his neck again, Robin grimaced. “You are the one who has a problem with beheading his foes. I have only ever decapitated zombies. I much prefer a swift Kesagiri strike to lethally dispose of my enemies.” Robin stepped to the edge of the tower and readied his grapple.

Red Hood did the same as he said, “Yeah, but if that strike isn’t done right or the blade is not sharp enough to complete the movement and slice through the bones...” Both leapt off the tower as Hood continued, “...well, that’s not a merciful end, slowly bleeding out.”

Robin’s answer carried in a whisper over the wind as the two disappeared into the dark, “Which is why I have perfected that strike and my swords are superbly sharpened...” 

Nightwing paled a little. “Um...maybe we shouldn’t have sent them off together like that.”

Red Robin snorted. “Don’t worry. Hood’s mostly all talk these days, you know that. And he’ll be extra careful with the squirt.” Then pulling his own grapple gun out from its holster, he said, “And again, thanks for sticking up for us...for me. I really do appreciate it.”

“What’re big brother’s for?”  Nightwing shot off a line and jumped, yelling back, “Last one to the Blue Line is a rotten egg!”

“No fair!” Red Robin called out hastily shooting off his own line and following into the night.

***

Batman always found it heartening at how challenging it was to break into and out of  Blackgate Penitentiary. Unlike Arkham, when a criminal found himself or herself within the confines of Blackgates’ iron bars and barbed wire topped chain-link fences, there were only two main ways to escape: through the intervention of the court system or death.

Throughout the years, Batman could almost count on his fingers and toes the times he had actually needed to go to  Blackgate to interrogate an inmate or investigate some shady activity. Warden Robert Crichton had always been fair and quick to stop any suspicious behavior. He accepted Batman’s help and presence easily, which highlighted Crichton’s one main flaw...he was naïve. He understood that prisoners were not to be trusted. But Crichton was not a corrupt man. He was so trusting of those on the “right” side of the bars, that he could not see treachery in the people who worked alongside him in the prison system.

After Crichton’s retirement last year, Agatha  Zorbatos became the new Warden. She was almost the exact opposite in her approach. She ruled with an iron fist and distrusted everyone. If it looked off in any way, she was going to nip it in the bud. Turn overs were quite common place in the ranks of security officers and administrators. Very few staff remained from Crichton’s era. She outright refused to hire any security that came from Arkham. As much as Batman could respect Zorbatos’ stratagem, he wondered how well received his first visit to the penitentiary under her watch would be tonight.

As he slid into the shadows of the office area, Batman saw that  Zorbatos was completing her paperwork for the day. It looked as if she was a few minutes away from filing her documents and leaving for home.

“Warden.”

Much to her credit,  Zorbatos covered her surprised jump, by standing and bringing her taser up and to the ready, inches from Batman’s chest. Once she realized who was standing in her office, she stated, “I wondered when I might have the pleasure of meeting the Batman.” She had yet to lower the taser. “What brings you out on this fine evening?”

“I need information about an inmate that was here a decade ago,” Batman answered, not shirking from the weapon or the glare from the Warden.

“That’s well before my time. I believe you need to go have a conversation with Crichton.”  Zorbatos narrowed her one visible eye, the other one lost and the socket hidden behind a patch. “But you would know that. You don’t want to involve Crichton. Now the question is...why?”

“Crichton would not have been aware of any discrepancies. He was not corrupt.” Batman turned his head to the side, as if examining the Warden. “There are three employees...administrators that go back far enough. I need to know if any of them remember inmates who died or whose deaths were faked...information on those persons who would have had access to the records and would have been able to forge documents and make prisoner trades without Crichton’s knowledge.”

Zorbatos slightly lowered the taser. “Wait, you said inmate first and now you’re saying  _ inmates _ plural. Exactly what are you looking for?”

“Willis Todd, inmate number 65GC2063, died as a result of injuries from a severe beating and multiple stab wounds from a sharp object, most likely a broken and sharpened toothbrush. It was rumored to be a hit by Two-Face to keep him from turning State’s evidence. Todd was buried in the Potter’s Field on the Penitentiary grounds within 48 hours of death. It has come to my attention that his grave was found empty upon exhumation a few months ago. After delving through the records of the years surrounding his demise, I have discovered many cases of quick hit type deaths, followed by hasty burials, all low-profile criminals, all with little to no family ties outside of the prison system. All records are impeccable. Not even one white-out stain. I find that curious.”

At some point,  Zorbatos had placed her taser down on her desk. She took a deep breath and crossed her arms. “What administrators?”

“Cooper, Hamilton, and Rogers,” Batman answered.

“I’ll look into it. Is there a way I can reach you? I don’t know of any signal on the roof here,”  Zorbatos quipped, lip quirking slightly.

“I’ll contact you,” Batman said, as he slowly stepped back.

A warning buzz sounded and an emergency code was called out on the intercom system. “Of course,”  Zorbatos spoke distractedly, looking down and picking up the receiver of the phone on her desk. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got...” The Warden stopped talking when she realized that Batman was no longer in her office. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

***

Patrol had gone smoothly for both pairs of vigilantes. They had met up at Monolith Square and crossed over the Sprang Bridge together. A spontaneous game of tag broke out half-way through the Bowery. Red Hood had managed to evade Red Robin only to find himself cornered by Nightwing. He knew he could lose the swift-footed acrobat if he could only make it to Crime Alley. Afterall, that was Red Hood’s home turf.

Once his feet hit the darkened alley ways, Red Hood found that he was able to get quite the distance between himself and  Nightwing . He grappled back up to the rooftops and started to scan the nearby buildings, looking for his two younger siblings. That’s when he heard it. Raised voices. A child’s shrill cry. A dog barking and whining. Breaking glass. Sounds so familiar that he was taken back to another time...to a place not far from where he stood, his feet rooted, ears listening with a sick feeling spreading in his gut. It had been weeks since Jason’s last nightmare about his childhood...weeks since he had dreamed about his life before Robin. Those nightmares were almost as bad as the Joker and the Lazarus Pit.

A man’s deep voice carried angrily into the night. Jason’s eyes found the open window. He caught sight of the arguing couple, along with a child crying and clutching a small puppy to his chest. It was Willis and Catherine all over again. It was little Jason and Sparky, hiding under the kitchen table. Before Red Hood knew what was happening, he was moving towards that window. He was going to quiet those voices...end the nightmare...

***

He had come home late, smelling of cheap bear and cigarettes. His wife was angry because he had missed supper again. His little boy sat on the floor playing with a puppy, that had already cost him too much money for a vet visit and food. Now, as he walked into the cramped apartment, he could smell that it had crapped inside, like every night this week.

“That mutt takes another dump inside again and I’m  gonna chunk him out the window. You hear me, boy?”

The little boy clutched his puppy close to his chest. “Yes sir.”

“If you were home earlier, we could’ve taken the puppy out sooner. He wouldn’t have had an accident,” his wife sniped.

“You  sayin ’ the mutt  crappin ’ all over the floor is my fault?” His words came out angry and slurred.

“I’m  sayin ’ you  ain’t here enough to worry over whether that puppy craps on the floor or not. You  ain’t here to help clean it up!”

The puppy barked and whined at the raised voices. The little boy shuffled his pet closer, holding on tightly.

A growl escaped the man’s lips. “It’s my money that pays for this apartment and it’s my money that paid for that dog! I can say if he stays or goes!” He reached out to take the animal from the boy’s hands.

“No, Dad! Please!”

“Give it here, now!”

“Stop, Craig! Leave him alone!”

“Get out of my way!” He shoved his wife. She fell down against the coffee table, knocking a glass of water off to shatter on the floor. “I said, give me that mutt!”

The boy took a fearful step back, but not fast enough.

He snatched the puppy up out of the small hands. The puppy whined in distress as he held it up by the scruff of the neck. Then the man smiled cruelly. “I’ve decided we don’t need a dog.” And with that, he drew his hand back intent on throwing the small animal hard against the exposed brick wall of the apartment.

“Stop it, Craig!” the woman called out, trying to get up off the floor in time. She was too slow.

As it hit the wall, there was a short, sharp yelp and then the puppy landed with a thud on the ground, not moving.

“No!” The little boy cried out. Then turning on the man, he yelled, hands clenched tight at his sides, “I hate you!”

“You hate me?” The man unbuckled his belt and yanked it out of the loops of his jeans. “I’ll give you something to hate...”

Just as he raised his arm to bring the belt down on the cowering boy, something...someone came bursting through the open window and knocked into him. Before he could register what was happening, the man was on the ground and was being beaten without mercy. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a bright red helmet.

***


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow! This chapter just went crazy on me! I was definitely surprised myself at a certain turn of events that just came out! I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Red Robin and Robin show up in the nick of time.  
> Nightwing comes in a bit late.  
> Red Hood hits a breaking point and then...something special happens. I'm not going to spoil it. It's just unexpected.

Chapter Sixteen

Robin was in hot pursuit of Red Robin. In his estimation, he should be within tackle range of the teen in 2 minutes and 17 seconds. Keeping pace as they leapt across rooftops, the younger vigilante noticed that Red Robin suddenly slowed, as if he saw something off in the distance. Then he skidded to a halt, placing a hand up towards Robin, as if asking him to pause in the game.

The current Boy Wonder tagged the hand and smirked victoriously. “You realize that it was inevitable...”

“Quiet!” Red Robin’s eyebrows scrunched in concentration. “Don’t you hear that?”

Robin came to attention  and listened , his eyes widening at the sound of a nearby altercation.

“It’s coming from over there! I thought I caught sight of Hood on that rooftop!” Red Robin waved him forward, as he took off. “Come on!”

By the time they reached the source of the sound, Robin could see a horrific scene through an open window. Red Hood was on top of another man and was beating him with hard punches to the face, with no sign of letting up his assault. A boy, no older than ten years, was yelling and trying his best to break away from what Robin assumed to be the child’s mother. The woman was yelling at both her son to not get involved and at Red Hood to stop “killing” her husband.

Red Robin was already entering the apartment, swiftly moving to Hood’s side.

“He’s down! You’ve got him, bro! Stop!” Red Robin grasped Hood’s right fist as it drew back for another strike, halting the motion. 

Robin quickly went to Hood’s left side, gently touching the young man’s elbow, not restraining him but applying enough pressure in order to be acknowledged. The room fell silent.

Breathing hard, Red Hood stayed perfectly still for all of about 10 seconds, before leaning back practically sitting on the legs of the man he had just rendered unconscious. Suddenly the young boy broke out of his mother’s grip and flung himself at Red Hood. His little fists connected with the vigilante’s back several times.

“Get off my dad! Get off of him!”

Red Robin released his hold on Hood and bear hugged the boy, moving him back out of potential harm’s way.

Twisting, Red Hood swung off and away from the boy’s father. He reached up with shaky hands and unclasped his helmet, allowing it to fall with a loud clap on the floor. Even though a domino mask covered his eyes, Hood’s face showed his distress. Still drawing in gasping breaths, he was pale and frowning, lips and chin quivering a little.

“Let him go,” he whispered hoarsely to Red Robin. “It’s okay. He’s right to be angry. I went too far.” Lips twisting into a grimace, he shrugged as he looked at the boy still being held back in Red Robin’s arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...I just...he was...I couldn’t...” His voice broke off in a trembling huff.

And that’s when Robin saw it. There on the floor against the living room wall was a very still and quiet brown puppy. Robin started to move towards it as he asked, “What happened?”

“Buster!” The little boy seemed to remember his puppy all at once. “Is he...?”

Robin knelt down and placed a hand on the puppy’s side, noticing a swollen bump on top of its head. He sighed in relief as he felt the little belly rise and fall in even respirations. He carefully lifted it up and brought it over to the woman and boy. Within half a minute, the small animal was starting to come around.

“A  veterinarian should be consulted,” Robin said, concern lacing his voice.

“There’s no money for that,” the woman snapped sharply. Waving her hand at the unconscious man, she added, “Especially now that Craig’s going to have his own medical bills.”

Red Hood looked back at the beaten man’s face and then over at his wife. “You won’t have to pay for any of it...vet bill or hospital. It’ll be covered.” He picked up his helmet and slowly gained his feet. He stood with his shoulders sagging, face pale and drawn for several quiet moments. Then Hood spoke in a very subdued tone, “I lost control. For that I  _ am _ sorry. But for the sake of your son and yourself, you don’t need  _ him, _ ” Red Hood pointed down at the abusive man. “...Not as long as he’s a drunk. It will only get worse and your boy needs a better example. If your husband somehow comes to his senses and does want to sober up or you need help leaving him, go to Dr. Leslie Thompkins’ clinic. She knows how to get in touch with me. I’ll help however I can.” With a small nod, he pivoted and stepped over to the window. Then he paused, one foot on the windowsill, and turned his head only slightly towards the boy. “I’m glad your puppy is okay.” And with that, Red Hood stepped out into the night.

***

Nightwing caught sight of Red Hood leaping out a window and running off at a fast clip to the south. When he saw that Robin and Red Robin were still inside of the apartment that Hood just left, he decided to go see what had happened. As he entered through the window, he observed Robin quietly talking to a boy with a small puppy. They were both carefully examining the animal’s head. Red Robin was just finishing up a call on his comm unit. He was kneeling with a woman, both peering over an unconscious man whose face had taken a heavy beating.

“What’s going on?”

Red Robin looked up and grimaced. “Hood...I’m not sure what triggered him, but...” He made a helpless gesture in the direction of the prone figure, frown deepening on his face. “I’ve made a call for an ambulance.”

Nightwing sighed and shook his head. He crouched down with them. Looking over at the woman, he asked in a careful tone, “Ma’am, can you tell me what was happening here when Red Hood intervened?”

The woman slid distrustful eyes over the two vigilantes  squatting beside her husband. “We were just having a disagreement, that’s all.”

“What about?”  Nightwing questioned, not believing it was just a simple disagreement.

“Nothing,” the woman said, not making eye contact.

“It was about the puppy, wasn’t it?” Red Robin pressed, his focus across the room on the two boys holding the young dog.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve never let him have that mutt. Craig didn’t want one and it’s been a sore spot over the past few weeks.” She hesitated for several seconds. “He came in late and had been drinking and I snapped at him and then he took it out on the dog and our boy.”

In the distance, they could hear the sirens of an ambulance. The three remaining vigilantes took their cue and started to move out. 

“Again, don’t worry about your husband’s medical expenses or the puppy’s vet bill. It will be covered. Like Hood said, go to Dr. Thompkins if you need to get in touch with us,” Red Robin told the woman before leaving.

Once out on the rooftop,  Nightwing blew out a breath. Just when things had started to look so great for Jason, this had to happen.

“I cannot blame Todd. That horrible man threw the puppy against a brick wall! He deserved to have his brains smashed in,” Robin declared, as he paced the roof.

“So that’s how he took it out on the dog?”  Nightwing questioned, not knowing that particular detail until now. It hadn’t been offered up by the woman.

“Yes,” Robin answered. “The boy told me so. Said his father pushed his mother down, threw the puppy, and was preparing to beat the boy with a belt.”

Red Robin placed his hands on his hips and grunted, shaking his head and looking off. “What are we going to do? This is so not a good situation.”

Nightwing clenched his jaw in frustration. “We need to find Hood. Talk to him.”

“What about Father? We are all aware that he will learn of this unfortunate event,” Robin said.

“They’ve been doing so well. Man, I hope this doesn’t set them back,”  Nightwing worried, running a hand through his hair.

“I will talk to Father. He will listen to me,” Robin said, voice not as confident as his words. “I will explain the circumstances...relay the boy’s account of the events and the condition of the puppy.  Surely, he will understand the intensity of the situation. And Todd did not kill the man.”

“I think Jason will be the one that has a bigger problem with his actions than anyone of us, including B,” Red Robin replied. “I think it was more than just a bad domestic fight that triggered this...like some other deep emotional trauma none of us know about.”

Nodding,  Nightwing said, “Okay, let’s go find him. See if we can get him to talk to us or at the very least let him know that all is still okay between us...that his brothers are still in his corner.”

***

As soon as he cleared the window, Red Hood took to the rooftops and ran as fast and as hard as he could away from the small apartment and his memories. He didn’t know where he was going, but he did know that he had to put as much distance between himself and the rush of green tinged fury that had erupted from deep within him. It had been so long since he had felt that out of control, riding on a wave of madness and hate and desire to crush down his demons.

He reached the Old Gotham District and tried not to think about Wayne Tower as he skirted past it, taking a route a few blocks to the west on the lower rooftops of storefronts and smaller buildings. He pushed out any thoughts of friends, of family, of brothers, of mentors, of fathers...of Bruce and Alfred. If he thought of the people that he...cared for...that he loved...and if he thought about those people  that perhaps might actually care about him in return...people who Jason had let back into his life because he wanted to be a part of a family again...he couldn’t face being alone again...not again...

He collapsed on to his knees on a random rooftop, breathing hard, tears stinging his eyes and sobs choking up from his throat. He unclasped his helmet and flung it far away from himself. His jaw clenched and his hands tightened into fists. Looking up into the starless, dark sky, Jason let out a  heart wrenching, guttural cry. Then he bent over, his forehead against the concrete and his hands lacing and tugging at his hair and allowed himself to release a flood of shame and grief and fear.

Jason was not sure how much time passed before he finally reigned in his emotions and sat back up. He took on a meditation position and brought his thoughts to  Ducra and his time with the All Caste. He needed to focus. He needed to find tranquility. He inhaled and held his breath for a count of five and then slowly exhaled. He kept going that way, breathing in and holding and slowly releasing. He was aware of the tension leaving his body...his head clearing...

_ I’m in the storm, but the storm is not in me. _

He let that one phrase drift through his consciousness over and over again like a mantra. He did not remember doing so, but at some point, he must have removed his leather jacket, gloves, and body armored shirt. The coolness of the night air on his skin ushered in much needed peace. He also became aware of the fact that someone had accompanied him. The presence next to him on his left side was not threatening. It was rather calming. It made Jason feel safe and not so alone...

***

Orphan and Spoiler stood on a rooftop in lower Old Gotham staring at the bizarre sight before them.

Eyes not straying from the oddity, Spoiler leaned closer to her companion and stage whispered, “Do you think he knows that he’s glowing and levitating?”

Orphan gave a few steady nods.

Both teen girls continued to watch as a helmetless and shirtless Red Hood remained hoovering in the air, chest glowing with strange purple markings.

“Is it normal for people to glow and levitate when they meditate?” Spoiler asked, eyebrow quirking up ever so slightly.

Orphan frowned and shook her head in the negative.

After a few more minutes of observation, Orphan suddenly walked over and sat down to Jason’s left. She assumed her own meditation position.

Spoiler continued to stare.

Orphan huffed softly and reached over to pat the space beside her to indicate that Spoiler should join them.  So, she did.

***

Batgirl had not planned on  patrolling tonight. She had only gotten back into Gotham the day before, having finished a mission with Black Canary. It had been a fun trip, but a long one with lots of demanding physical activity. As a result, Barbara was covered in bruises and cuts from head to toe. Her muscles were sore and achy. However as much as her body wanted to rest, her mind would not settle down. It longed for something to do. In the end, Batgirl decided to go investigate a murder that had taken place in Old Gotham. Her father had mentioned the complexity of the case, when she had visited his office earlier in the day. It intrigued her. So, Batgirl had gone to the crime scene to give it a look over.

As she was leaving the murder site with her head full of possible leads, Batgirl saw a puzzling scene a few rooftops to the south. She grappled over and stood staring at the three vigilantes meditating, one of which was glowing and levitating. She thought about saying something...asking questions because she was curious about this whole state of affairs. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to disturb such an intriguing event...

And if she wasn’t going to ask questions, she might as well join in the fun. With an adventurous grin, Batgirl walked over and sat down next to Spoiler.

***

Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin were the next ones to find the rooftop and its occupants. They gawked silently at the meditating group before them.

“Is he...?”  Nightwing started to say, but  tapered off.

“Glowing?” Red Robin supplied.

“Yes, his chest is illuminated with peculiar markings. Has Todd ever exhibited those before?” Robin questioned, as he took a step towards Jason and narrowed his eyes in concentration.

“Not that I know of...but...”  Nightwing gave a helpless shrug.

“What about the levitation? I would not have thought Todd capable of such deep meditation techniques. I have never been able to accomplish it, nor Father,” Robin stated, continuing his study of Jason’s chest markings.

Red Robin looked over at his oldest brother. “What should we...”

“You could join us or you could all be quiet,” Spoiler hissed out, peeking her eyes open at the Boy Wonders standing in front of those meditating. She shifted  uncomfortably. “ I’m having a hard time concentrating with all of you babbling.” With that, she closed her eyes again and took a deep breath, apparently trying to meditate again.

The three brothers glanced at each other silently for a few seconds before Robin gave a little grin and shrug. The current Boy Wonder walked over and sat down to the right of Jason.  Nightwing and Red Robin gave a final glimpse at each other before doing the same.

***

After leaving  Blackgate , Batman had patrolled the lower east end of Gotham around the Docks. He could tell through the chatter over his comm that the boys had apparently been playing a game of tag after a pretty mild patrol of the city. Then Red Robin had put in a call for an ambulance to a location deep within Crime Alley. After that, the comms had fallen completely silent. Batman tried his best not to worry. He wanted to trust his sons and not always micro-manage their lives. But at times like these, he could not stop himself from checking in on them.

He pulled up his GPS holographic map and peered over it. Something immediately caught his attention...seven tracers were all concentrated in one ping located in Old Gotham. All seven of his kids...in one place...one spot...

Had some rogue gotten out? One that needed everyone’s attention?

Had an accident taken place? Was someone hurt and everyone had come to the rescue?

Or had someone been able to take them all? Were they being held  captive?

Batman started to activate his comm to communicate with them...but what if they were in the middle of a life and death struggle? It could distract them and end up getting someone hurt. Or if they were taken...would an adversary good enough to take down all seven of his kids not be aware of their communications system? It would be better for Batman to go to the location without giving away the element of surprise.

Leaping into the Batmobile, he took off to where the tracers were pinging. The seven-minute drive was nerve-racking. By the time Batman arrived and grappled up to the roof, he had envisioned at least 34 different scenarios, in which one if not all of his family was dead, dying or seriously maimed by an old rogue or some new villain. What  _ actually _ greeted him was a complete anomaly...

All seven of his young proteges sat in a long row, meditating...or attempting to in the case of Spoiler. But the most shocking sight was the young man in the middle of it all.

Jason was levitating. His chest glowed with purple markings that Batman could not read or interpret. He didn’t know what to do...what to think...was this some sort of trick? Had something taken over Jason’s body and mind? Why were all the others just sitting there doing nothing to help him? Or maybe it was controlling them through Jason.

Batman swiftly walked over to Jason, intent on snapping him out of whatever...whatever this was that had taken over his son.

He reached out his hand to grab ahold of Jason’s shoulder, only to have it intercepted by a small hand encircling his wrist. Orphan held tight to Batman, but otherwise remained in her seated position.

“No. He is... _ still _ ...water with no ripples.” Orphan’s grip lightened. “We help keep him _ here _ . No more need to run.” She let his wrist go and smoothly stood up, moving back. Pointing down to the now unoccupied spot next to Jason, Orphan said, “Batman can help. Keep him  _ still _ . Keep him  _ here _ .”

Batman watched as Orphan claimed a new spot down by Batgirl. His eyes roamed over each one of the young people before him, stopping again on Jason. Slowly a smile formed on his face and Batman sat down next to his second son. He wasn’t sure how well he could meditate with an oddly glowing and levitating Jason beside him, but if it gave his son the courage to stay and be a part of this family...Bruce’s family...well, he would do anything for that.

***

Slowly Jason became aware of the world outside of his body and mind. He could feel himself lowering gently back to the ground and settle there. He could hear the sounds of the city around him. He could feel the breeze ruffle his hair and push against his bare skin, the chill of the early morning hour. He could hear the quiet breathing on both sides of him...other people breathing...other people with him.

Jason allowed his eyes to open and he slowly turned his head to the right. His brothers were there, sitting silently in their own meditative states. Then Jason turned to look to his left. He drew in a sharp intake of air. Batman sat next to him.

Upon hearing Jason’s gasp, Batman blinked over at his son. “Jason.”

“Hey, B,” Jason said, feeling a little foolish, sitting  half-dressed on some random roof surrounded by the whole Bat family in various states of meditation.

“Is everything alright?” Batman asked, with just a touch of apprehension.

It took a moment for Jason to remember what had happened to bring him to this rooftop...but then it all came back in a rush. “You’re going to be disappointed,” he whispered.

Batman frowned. “About what?”

“I lost control. I beat some guy to a bloody mess,” Jason said softly. “If it hadn’t been for Red Robin, I might would’ve killed him...right in front of his family...his little boy.”

Batman was silent for a minute. When he finally spoke, his voice was equally hushed. “Do you know how many times I’ve lost control and come within a breath of killing someone?”

Jason glanced over at Batman. “Is that a rhetorical question?” he  half-jokingly asked.

Batman hummed in response. Then he admitted, “It’s happened more times than I care to acknowledge. We live in a high-stakes world...this life of fighting crime and bringing others to justice. We see things and experience tragedies almost on a daily basis that most people will never have to face in their whole life time.” Placing a steady hand on Jason’s shoulder, he said, “You’ve had to deal with horrible circumstances that none of us can even fathom. I would be a fool...and I’ve been a fool in the past...and I would be even more of a  hypocrite , if I didn’t expect you to struggle with controlling your anger and hurt for all that you have gone through in your young life.”

“But what if I go too far next time? What if I end up killing someone because I’m too lost in my own head to stop?” Jason looked down at his hands. Those hands had killed so many people...and even though Jason believed that some had deserved their fates, he couldn’t be sure all of them had been beyond redemption. “What if I lose all of this? All of you because I’m too messed up to be a part of this family?”

The hand on his shoulder squeezed a bit tighter, causing Jason to look up at Batman.

The Dark Knight’s face was looking out over the horizon to the east, where the sky was just starting to lighten with the coming dawn. “We’re all a little messed up though, aren’t we? But not so messed up that we can’t keep trying. That’s what makes us a family, Jason. No matter what happens, no matter how bad we mess up...we know we’ve got each other’s back. We never give up on each other. I will never give up on you. You will always be my son and I will always love you.” His gaze turned back to meet Jason’s eyes. “You will never lose me or this family, because I will never let go.”

Jason let those words sink in, feeling a greater hope.

“You know,” Spoiler suddenly interrupted the stillness of the moment. “That’s exactly what Rose said to Jack in the movie  _ Titanic _ ... _ I’ll never let go _ ...right before she let go...”

Nightwing and Batgirl snorted.

“He was  _ dead _ , Steph. I mean, Jack  sorta _ let go _ first by dying,” Red Robin retorted.

“ _ Tt _ ...Jack suffered from hypothermia. It was not as if he meant to die,” Robin chided.

“Elsa  _ let it go _ . She even sang about it,” Batgirl offered.

“That is the best Disney song ever!” Spoiler proclaimed.

Soon, an  argument broke out over Disney songs and movie quotes. Jason began to put his gear back on and retrieved his helmet. He looked around at his family, several members with their arms waving animatedly as the debate unraveled.  _ Family _ , Jason thought again...because that’s what these people were...it was more apparent now than ever. Without even knowing what inner turmoil he was going through, these highly-trained, highly-skilled, highly- traumatized, and highly-weird  group of people were there for him.

“So Little Wing, you  _ are _ coming to the manor for breakfast, right?”  Nightwing looked over at him with a hopeful expression. “We can all crash and then just hang out some this afternoon.”

“Yes, and you must teach me about your meditation methods. How are you capable of levitation? What are those purple markings that appear on your person?” Robin demanded.

“Oh...” Jason hadn’t thought about his family witnessing those two little details. “It’s...uh...that’s just part of the All Caste training. I’m not sure I could actually _ teach _ it. I had to go through a cleansing ritual of some sort.” He shrugged and added, “According to Ducra, I was the first human to survive it in over a thousand years. I don’t even know if the cleansing ritual  _ can _ be performed anymore since  Ducra and most of the All Caste are gone now.”

“I would still like to learn more of this All Caste,” Robin stated.

“I don’t know if I would be the best person to answer your questions...I left the  _ Acres of All _ right after  Ducra declared me to be The Chosen One. I didn’t stay and learn more about what that meant exactly and what my role as this Chosen One was supposed to be... Ducra never really told me. Then when I did go back...it was too late.” Jason frowned, thinking back on those days. “I should’ve never left. I should’ve listened and stayed. But I guess the Pit was still too strong and I had too much anger to make any kind of smart decision.”

“Nevertheless, you  _ will _ still instruct me with what knowledge you have?” Robin implored.

“I’m really not qualified to...”

“ I am not asking of your qualifications, Todd. I am merely seeking knowledge,” the boy pressed.

“Robin,” Batman rumbled. “Let it go.”

Everyone exchanged amused glances and finally burst into fits of laughter...everyone except for Robin, who scowled back at his father.

“Let’s all go,”  Nightwing called out. “Alfred’s going to have breakfast ready and I’m starving!”

As everyone started to move off and head for the manor, Robin ventured closer to Jason and whispered, “You  _ will  _ tell me of the All Caste.  _ Won’t _ you, Todd?”

And Jason knew that the kid would not be letting this go.

***


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a lot of Jason talking and sharing. No action.  
> A little bit of playful banter mixed in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Veronica Vreeland is mentioned. She is from the Batman Animated Series. She is one of Bruce's few good high society friends. She's pretty much rich and clueless, but fun and nice.

Chapter Seventeen

The sun had just broken over the horizon when Batman and his crew made it back to the cave. Alfred was pleasantly surprised to see that not only Tim, but Jason was among those arriving for breakfast. Since the opening of the Iceberg Lounge, Jason had had little time to come by the Manor, and of course Alfred was kept busy attending to the affairs of Bruce Wayne and Batman. As he watched the young vigilantes chatter away in their post patrol high, Alfred smiled with contentment. It was unfortunately a rarity to have all of his family home, safe and not quarreling amongst one another.

However, amidst all the light-hearted bantering, the older gentleman could feel a subdued tone from his oldest. Bruce did not seem upset, but rather contemplative. He moved around the group and settled at his computer system to enter the night’s report. However, the man kept glancing over at Jason with an odd gleam of pride and curiosity. Alfred wanted to ask what had happened during the dark hours of the night and early morning. He wanted to know why Batman and company had been so late coming home on what was apparently a very uneventful patrol of Gotham City.

Yet, Alfred knew that for the moment, questions could wait. He ordered everyone to clean up and then come upstairs for breakfast. Within half an hour Damian, Cass, and Tim had made an appearance at the kitchen table and were eating. The all-nighter was beginning to show on Damian’s face. His eyes drooped and he chewed his food slowly, methodically.

Cass seemed almost unaffected. She bounced around the kitchen, humming a  made-up tune. As Alfred held out a plate piled high with food, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and smiled sweetly. He smiled back. “Good morning, Miss Cassandra.”

Tim was somewhere in between his two siblings’ wakefulness. His eyes blinked tiredly, but he was more aware of his surroundings than poor Damian, who was just about to face-plant into his plate of eggs. As the young man headed for the coffee pot, Alfred cleared his throat.

“One cup, Master Timothy.” At the pout on the boy’s face, Alfred added, “You need your sleep and the  caffeine will keep you from any significant rest.”

Tim poured himself a cup of coffee and came over to the kitchen table, without protest.

“Master Damian, finish up and then head off to bed.” Alfred patted the youngster’s shoulder just as he was nodding off.

Damian jerked up. “I’m awake,” he mumbled.

“Of course, young sir,” Alfred replied dryly. “If only for the moment. Now off with you.”

Damian shoved one last bite of egg into his mouth and handed his empty plate up to Alfred, before slinking out of the room.

Glancing at the wall clock, Alfred commented, “I wonder what is delaying the rest of our little party...”

***

Clad only in his towel, Dick exited one of the many showers in the locker area of the Batcave. He stepped out to see a freshly showered Jason in his boxers. Dick could not help but scrutinize his brother’s bare chest, which showed no signs of the mysterious glowing markings that had illuminated on his body’s core while meditating. Jason continued to dress in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Dick continued to eye him and wonder about all the things this brother had gone through in the years he was absent from their family. 

As the younger man sat down on a nearby bench to put on socks and a pair of crocs, he suddenly stopped and looked up to glare at Dick. “What?”

Dick blinked his eyes away. “Nothing. Just lost in thought. Wasn’t meaning to stare.”

“Okay, whatever,” Jason mumbled, slipping a foot into the last croc. He stood up, preparing to leave the locker room.

Dick knew that this would be the best time to ask...to find out part of the missing pieces... “What exactly did you mean that you were the first human to survive the cleansing in a thousand years? That was just an exaggeration, right?”

Jason sighed and plopped back down on the bench. He shrugged as he said, “ Ducra didn’t exaggerate. Like ever. She was pretty blunt actually. I would have to think she was stating a fact.”

“What was it like...this cleansing?” Dick asked, losing his towel in order to dress himself.

Jason made a disgusted sound at his older brother’s lack of modesty. “Gah! Warn a person!”

Dick threw his towel in Jason’s direction. Jason swatted it away, keeping his eyes averted. Dick pulled on his boxers. “Better?”

“It’s too late...my innocence has been taken,” Jason bemoaned dramatically.

A towel-clad Bruce chose that moment to exit his own shower area.

“You need to teach your golden boy some lessons in modesty,” Jason proclaimed.

Bruce hummed with amusement. “I tried. It didn’t stick.” Without pause, he stripped his own towel off, much the same way as Dick had done a few minutes earlier.

“ Oh, for the love!” Jason covered his eyes. “I’m telling Alfred!”

Dick chuckled. “It’s a locker room, Jay.” Waiting a few minutes so that Bruce had his boxers and t-shirt on, Dick finally drew Jason back to the original conversation. “So, what about the cleansing?”

Jason bit his lip and gave a dismissive shrug. “There was some sort of ceremonial tub. When I was immersed into the water, I was sent into an astral plain where I had to battle and defeat a demonic monster. I won and then  Ducra pulled me out of the water. Said I was the first human to survive in a thousand years. Lucky me. Now I’m the Chosen One. End of story.”

Dick made brief eye contact with Bruce. The older man’s expression was as unreadable as ever. Dick then asked another question. “ So, is that the only thing that went on there...where was this at?”

“Some hidden place in the Himalayas. It’s called the Thousand Acres of All. There’s like a monastery there that’s called the Chamber of All.” Jason stood back up and began to walk toward the door that entered into the main part of the cave. “A lot of training went on there. I was given the All Blades and taught how to use them. There was a lot of meditation and a lot of Ducra talking and talking and talking.”

Dick and Bruce followed Jason. He didn’t seem necessarily upset about sharing this information, but he was talking as if he was just stating facts. Plus, Jason was now moving, as if intent on leaving the cave. Dick realized that for the moment Jason was willing to give them a little glimpse of his missing years, but that he was fully prepared to shut down if it got to be too much...and Dick could tell Jason would probably reach that point soon.

“I had already started on my quest to...” Jason stopped and seemed to rethink his words. “I was determined...to come back to Gotham. Nothing that  Ducra said ever changed that. But, sending me to  Ducra was Talia’s  last-ditch effort to sway me away from...”

They had made it across the cave and were now walking in front of the uniform display. Jason’s Robin suit still prominently stood out from the rest of the other retired uniforms. Dick watched as his brother’s eyes fell upon it. Dick grimaced. Maybe this was not such a good idea...asking questions, asking Jason to delve into his troubled history, especially here in the cave with the ghosts of the past...

Jason whirled around and faced his older brother and adoptive father. “If it hadn’t been for  Ducra , I would’ve come back to Gotham with no restraint at all. Killing would not have been limited to drug lords or rapists or clowns. I’m pretty positive a lot of innocent people would have died at my hands, including some of you.  Ducra helped calm the rage. It didn’t go away completely...obviously. But it was  controlled...c ontrolled madness...only at times, it wasn’t. But it was  more so than what it would have been.” His hands clenched into fists and he shook his head. “Look, I know that I’m a disappointment to many people, present company included. It hurts to know that I’ve let people I care about down in such spectacular ways. I regret not staying with Ducra longer. If I had, maybe I could have come home...right. Maybe I would’ve been sane, or closer to sane.”

Dick was stunned into silence. He wasn’t sure where to even start with all of that. What to say to even...

“ Jaylad ,” Bruce started, when Jason turned back towards the stairs leading up to the Manor.

“I’m starved,” the young man declared. “I’m going to see what Alfred’s got for breakfast.”

“Jason, wait,” Bruce all but ordered. “Son, you can’t just dump all of that on us and turn around like nothing  happened. You can’t say things like that without giving us a chance to respond...to tell you that you are not a disappointment...that you  haven’t...”

Standing three stairs up, Jason huffed loudly, interrupting Bruce’s protest. Again, he swung around to face the other men. “I don’t want to fight,” he said with a raised voice and a slash of his arm.

“Who says we’re fighting?” Dick asked, keeping his own voice soft and calm. He spread his hands out in a placating gesture. “We’re not fighting. Nobody here is upset.”

Jason tilted his head back, eyes searching the ceiling of the cave. He blinked rapidly and pressed his lips tight together. After a few seconds, he gazed back at them, his voice strained, “But it always happens when I talk about killing or the rage I feel or what Talia did. I don’t talk about it because it’s never going to be okay with any of you. But I need you to know that what is done is done. And I don’t know if I would be here...here right now, with...with coherent thoughts if Talia hadn’t dunked me into the Pit. As horrible as it was, I don’t know if I would be more than a walking zombie without that happening. And like I said, without Ducra and the All Caste, I would be exactly what Ra’s al Ghul told Talia I was the second I came out of the Pit...a curse and a pestilence.” Jason scoffed. “On second thought, maybe he was right.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Bruce said with conviction. “I don’t want to fight either, Jason. I’m not going to lie and say I’m comfortable with the fact that you’ve killed. But put that aside, put the past where it belongs...in the past. This moment, right now, I am happy you are here, as you are. If Talia or Ducra or whoever had anything to do with you, my son, being here alive with me at home, then I am forever grateful.”

Jason swallowed thickly and then gave a few small nods. “Okay.” He smiled tightly at them. “Okay,” he repeated.

Dick felt the awkward air between them. The need to break it before it became too unbearable pounded at his chest. Slapping his hands together, he declared, “Good talk. Now, how about breakfast?” Dick walked past Bruce and gave the man a light clap on his upper arm. Then he bounded up the steps to Jason and turned his brother around, throwing an arm across his shoulders, leading them up to the Manor.

***

Alfred had just finished washing the last dish from the first shift of breakfast when the second group of hungry vigilantes walked into the kitchen. Dick was chattering away about some mission he had gone on years ago in the Himalayan mountains. He described a village in great detail, right down to the prayer flags that stretched across the rocky streets.

“Are you talking about  Phu in Nepal?” Jason questioned.

“Yes!” Dick exclaimed.

“I’ve been through there a few times,” Jason admitted, as he reached for the plate Alfred handed him. “Thanks, Alfred! You know I love my bacon!”

“This mission was like 4 years ago,” Dick continued.

Jason just shrugged and stuffed his mouth full of food.

Dick sat down with his own plate and frowned. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious if our paths crossed or almost crossed?”

“What difference would it have made?” Jason asked with just a tinge of irritation.

Dick shrugged himself and mumbled, “I just think it might be a neat connection.”

Bruce was over at the coffee pot. He remained quiet, but Alfred could tell he was listening intently.

Jason took a swig of orange juice, swallowed, and then scowled at Dick. “If we would have met or crossed paths, you would probably be dead. I already told you that I was not in a good place back then, even worse than when I finally did show up here in Gotham. I probably wouldn’t have even warned you. I would’ve just struck out and you would’ve been too shocked to do a thing about it. So no, I’m not  _ even a little bit curious _ .”

Dick’s frown deepened. “Okay, I’ll take the hint. I’m done asking about your missing years for the morning. I’ll take what I can get and leave the rest for another day.”

Bruce sat down at the table with his plate and a newspaper.

“Don’t you have a tablet?” Dick asked, pointing at the paper and changing the subject as promised.

“I like newspaper print,” Bruce defended.

Dick huffed, “You old dinosaur! You better recycle those things at least.”

Jason grinned, chewing a bite. He pointed a piece of bacon at Bruce. “He’s got a point. Do you know how many trees have to die for you to read newspaper print instead of just reading the article on a tablet?”

“ Actually, you young uneducated whippersnappers, newsprint, specifically the newsprint used by Gotham Gazette, is made from recycled fibers and recycled newsprint and also from residual chips, sawdust, and leftover pieces of wood from saw mills. So, this,” Bruce held up his newspaper. “...is 100% environmentally friendly. But if you are worried about the trees, I do donate quite a bit to the Arbor Day Foundation every year.”

Jason and Dick blinked at each other.

“Well, you learn something new every day, I suppose,” Dick said with an amused smile.

“And if you are really, really concerned, get Clark to knock a tree down. He’ll feel so guilty that he will plant at least 800 to replace it.” Bruce flicked his paper open and hummed at an article that caught his eye.

“Wait, what?” Jason questioned. He snatched the paper down from Bruce’s face. “How would you know that?”

“He told me,” Bruce said, with a wiry expression. “He said he kicked a tree and felt guilty, so he planted like 800 saplings.” He snapped his paper back up. “Alfred did you see this?”

“Sir?”

“Veronica is engaged again. How many times does this make?”

Alfred walked across the room to peer over Bruce’s shoulder. “Ah yes, Miss Vreeland...if she follows through to the wedding date, I believe this will be husband number 5, sir. As for  engagements , I have lost count of those, I’m afraid.”

“Ronnie is still around?” Jason asked. “I always did like her, even if she’s a bit ditzy. She always made those charity dinners fun. She never made me feel like I didn’t belong.”

“Maybe I’ll send her an invitation to join me at the Iceberg so I can meet her  fiancé and make sure that she’s picked a nice one and that she has him sign the usual pre- nup .” Bruce placed the paper down and pulled out his cell phone, typing out a text message.

“You crack me up!” Dick chuckled. “Veronica is like high society Brucie’s best friend, but for real. If you weren’t Batman, I believe you two would have absolutely fallen for each other.”

Bruce glanced up from his phone and made a face. “I don’t think so. She’s more like a little sister I have to look out for because she’s too busy to do it herself.”

“She’s busy, alright,” Jason muttered. “Five marriages?”

“Four,” Alfred corrected. “She’s yet to walk the aisle with this gentleman.”

“There’s that,” Jason conceded. He took his last bite of breakfast and stood to place his plate in the sink. “That hit the spot, Alfred. Thanks.”

“My pleasure, Master Jason.”

As Jason turned to leave the kitchen, Bruce called out, “Jason? May I ask a question of my own?”

The young man shrugged. “I may not answer, but you can ask.”

“What happened last night?” There was no accusation in Bruce’s question, just quiet concern. “You’ve been so in control lately and we’re doing this whole trust thing. I just want to make sure you’re okay. That you aren’t keeping something painful inside that we could help you with.”

Jason stared down at the floor, warring with himself. He was tired. He had already had one intense conversation about his past this morning. His emotions were still raw from the whole  debacle during patrol last night. And yet, a part of him  _ wanted _ to tell Bruce and Alfred and even Dick exactly what had happened to cause him to snap. That perhaps, next time...if a similar situation presented itself, that he might be able to avoid  erupting so violently because somebody out there knew...that there would be a connection to help keep him accountable for his actions.

“It was the puppy.” Jason came back to the table and sat down, leaning forward on his elbows. “I had a dog. His name was Sparky. Just a plain brown mutt, but he was my best friend. When Willis and Catherine were at each other's throats, that dog was my comfort and lifeline. One night, a few months before Willis was arrested and sent to  Blackgate , he came in wasted...like just hammered. I don’t exactly remember what I did, but he became angry at me. I mouthed off. He backhanded me and I fell down on the floor. He bent over to grab me back up and Sparky just came out from under the kitchen table and bit Willis, right on the ankle. It was hard enough to  break the skin. So, Willis started kicking him. I tried to stop him, but he just kept knocking me down and kicking Sparky.”

“Oh heavens!” Alfred murmured.

Dick looked about ready to cry and Bruce had his jaw clenched tight.

Jason breathed in shakily. “It was a Thursday night. I remember because Willis put him in the dumpster that was right below my bedroom window. The sanitation trucks only came down our alleyway on Monday and Thursday mornings. So, all weekend, I could smell...” Jason felt tears prick his eyelids. “Yeah, well, seeing that little boy with his dog and his parents yelling and fighting...” He blinked hard to keep the tears from leaving his eyes.

“That’s terrible!” Dick shook his head. “No wonder you were so upset, Little Wing.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said softly. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s not your fault, Bruce. And it happened a long time ago.” Jason pushed his chair back and stood up. “Maybe that’s why I couldn’t really name the dog I have now...give it a real name. Speaking of which, I’ll need to go back to the Iceberg Lounge this evening or Dog will start to think Miguel is her owner. But I’m going to catch a few hours rest and before I leave, I do want to talk to you about Artemis and Bizarro, Bruce. See if we can get help determining what happened to them and where they are and how to get them home.”

“Sure, son,” Bruce said with a nod. When Jason headed toward the kitchen door again, Bruce added, “Jaylad, thanks for telling us.”

Jason stopped in the doorway. “Yeah, sure.” And then he made his exit.

Dick suddenly slammed a  fist down on the kitchen table. “Part of me hopes that Willis Todd is really not dead, because I would love to kick him and throw him in a dumpster!”

Bruce had to bite his tongue. He couldn’t tell Dick what he had discovered and what he was investigating. He would wait to make sure and then he would tell Jason. It was Jason’s right to know first. Still Bruce couldn’t help but want to do the same thing that Dick declared...and he prayed that Batman would be able to show restraint when he finally did confront Willis Todd.

***


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Bruce sit down to talk about what happened to Bizarro and Artemis...but it doesn't quite go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Bizarro past scene (in italics) is from Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #7.  
> Also, events from Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #'s 24-25 are heavily used throughout this chapter.
> 
> It's a short chapter (one scene), but I couldn't see writing anything else to muddle this scene up. As for the content, I don't really know what happened. It's pretty angsty. Jason had a lot to say. I just wrote it.

Chapter Eighteen 

“Artemis and I were trying to think of a way to steer the ship into the bay or away from the populated areas of the city when Bizarro grabbed the power source and went through the quantum door.” Jason was trying his best to remember and explain what had happened in the final minutes his teammates had last been seen or detected on earth...at least _this_ earth...in what Jason knew was one of so many earths in the multi-verse. 

“The quantum door that Bizarro built?” Bruce asked, eyes narrowing at the sheer oddity of his question. He was seated at his desk in the study of the manor. 

“Yes,” Jason answered softly, from his spot in one of the chairs facing the desk. “He was a literal genius for about two weeks, thanks to Luthor.” 

“Lex Luthor turned him into a genius. Why?” Elbows propped up on the desk, Bruce steepled his hands in front of his face. “That’s rhetorical, by the way. I’m just wondering what Lex’s motives were in all of this. He never does anything without some kind of underlying master plan.” 

“Look, I didn’t like going to Luthor, but Biz was dying. He was...” Jason sighed. It was difficult to talk about his teammates. In such a short time, Artemis and Bizarro had become...family. As prickly as she could be at times, Artemis had slowly started to open up to Jason and allowed him to see her true heart. Bizarro was like a child, who needed constant supervision. Black Mask had stolen the Superman clone and was planning on using him as an unstoppable mindless henchman. 

The first few days that Bizarro had been Jason’s responsibility had been difficult. There were many close calls because Bizarro did not understand his strength and the concept of death. Artemis warned Jason that he would ultimately be accountable for any lives lost, innocent or otherwise, at the hands of Bizzaro. 

With that weighing on his mind, Jason had taken the Superman clone upstate to a beautiful lake, a location in which he had gone on countless camping trips with Bruce years ago...in another lifetime. Jason and Bizarro had ventured there on a beautiful fall afternoon. As they spoke about the amazing scenery and calm surroundings, Jason’s hand rested in his pocket that concealed a small kyrptonite bullet. Biz kept talking blissfully unaware of Jason’s plan... 

_“_ _Bizarro_ _not hate world. Even in glass room. Inside looking out. Me had memories...a better place...”_ _Bizarro_ _sat on the grassy bank overlooking the lake, sparkling with the evening rays of the distant sunset. He was speaking of his time in the glass cloning womb that rapidly grew him from stolen Superman DNA. After being “born,” Biz had been subjected to hours and hours of film and memories of Superman, to try and brainwash him into believing he was not a clone, but actually the original Man of Steel._

_“Man and woman sending me away from a world on fire,” the clone continued. “Another man and woman loving me.”_

_Sitting behind Biz, Jason had quietly taken the gun out of its holster. He placed the kryptonite bullet into the chamber._

_“Him?” Biz questioned in the silence._

_Jason’s hand stilled. He opened his mouth to say something, to encourage Biz to continue talking, needing him to be distracted from what was to come._

_However, without prompt,_ _Bizarro_ _began speaking again. “Me remember fields. Me remember first time_ _Bizarro_ _stepped into sky. Friends and secrets. Truth and justice. American way.” Then his tone changed into something so tangibly sad, “But me am not stupid. Am not memories. Never_ _mine_ _.”_

_Jason moved slowly, methodically. He stood up, trying not to listen...trying not to think of this creature as anything more than a mindless clone, a weapon that was made to unleash unspeakable destruction upon innocent people at the whim of whoever controlled it._ _Bizarro_ _was right. He was not Superman. He was not...human...not someone with a soul..._

_“Am thoughts someone put into_ _Bizarro’s_ _head. Am like_ _Bizarro’s_ _mind and heart not good enough.”_

_Jason raised the gun to point at the clone’s head. He pulled the hammer back, finger ready on the trigger. Praying that the clone was so distracted that his brain would not register the sound of the gun cocking...his_ _super hearing_ _ears must have heard...Jason would be...could be fast..._

_“_ _Bizarro’s_ _real memories not start until Red Him. And Red Her.” His tone changed again, from morose to blissful. “_ _Bizarro_ _am not perfect. But Red Him show me how...”_

_Red Him...That’s what_ _Bizarro_ _called him. It tugged at Jason’s emotions._ _Strangely_ _enough, he_ **_had_ ** _found himself identifying with_ _Bizarro_ _over the past few days._ _Bizarro’s_ _confusion at “waking up” in this strange new world with its rules and morality that seemed to be in constant war with his own raging emotions. Not being able to express the terror or confusion that splintered his every thought. It was like being reborn in the Lazarus Pit. Yes, Jason identified with the clone. He was not perfect either._

_Shaking his head in_ _agitation_ _, Jason again tried his best to distance himself. It had to be done. This was a clone. This was a weapon. Jason was protecting innocent people, by ending a mistake. Like George killing Lennie in the novel_ **_Of Mice and Men_ ** _. He told himself in that moment to pull the trigger. To end it. Don’t listen...just pull back..._

_“...And me promise to be the best_ _Bizarro_ _me can be.”_

_He couldn’t do it. He tried, but his finger would not obey what his head said to do. Jason closed his eyes for a few seconds and prayed he would not regret this decision. Lowering the gun, Jason bowed his head and said, “C’mon, it’s late. Let’s get you back home.”_

_Bizarro_ _didn’t move. Instead, he breathed in the crisp fall air and asked, “Can Red Him stay longer? Me like this place.”_

_Without a word, Jason sat down next to_ _Bizarro_ _. Together, they watched as the sun slowly dipped down into the horizon._

Back in the present, Jason felt his emotions start to take over at the thought that it was very likely Artemis and Bizarro were dead. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him...” Jason admitted softly. “Not when he was the one thing that I did right since coming back. Biz was the one thing that I did that was completely good, Bruce. I’ve messed up so bad with everyone else...but with him...I got it right...” He swallowed hard and looked down at his hands. 

“I don’t know if I agree Bizarro is the _only_ thing you’ve done right since returning,” Bruce said, voice equally soft. “But I understand wanting...needing to do everything in your power to keep from losing someone you love and care for.” Bruce sucked in a deep breath, “You said Bizarro took the power source through the quantum door. What happened after that?” 

Jason thought about Artemis, how she grabbed him and kissed him and then shoved him out of the ship altogether. He had landed hard on the rooftop below, feeling abandoned and helpless. He watched in horror as the ship exploded, while simultaneously being sucked into another dimension. “She...she pushed me out of harm’s way. I assume she followed Biz...that was her intention, but I don’t know if she made it before the ship exploded or if the explosion dissipated or followed them or what.” Jason shrugged. “I didn’t have much time to think about it. _You_ didn’t give me a lot of time to think about it.” 

Bruce hummed. 

Jason couldn’t help himself. He glared back at his adoptive father. He knew Bruce had already apologized...several times in fact over the past few months. But it still hurt. It hurt a _good deal_ . And that **_hum_ ** ? It didn’t sound one bit apologetic. “You know, if you would’ve just listened or tried to talk to me that night, we could be that much closer to figuring all this out...maybe even already have figured it out and Biz and Artemis wouldn’t still be lost somewhere out there in the multi-verse! But instead, you decided beating the crap out of me was more important than the **_big exploding ship_ ** in the sky!” 

Bruce blinked at Jason, taken off-guard by the sudden accusation. He leaned away from his desk, back fully against his office chair, leaning it backward slightly. For a long moment, he turned to stare out of the window. Slowly, he gazed back around at Jason. There was a pronounced frown on his face, which deepened the lines between his brows and around his mouth. “I don’t have an excuse, Jason. I’m sorry. I was wrong. You’re right. I should have talked to you. I know looking back that you were not behaving like yourself. That you weren’t even trying to fight me really. I ignored all the signs and signals. I didn’t even register that there was a ship that was threatening to take out half of downtown Gotham. That is something Batman should _not_ have ignored.” 

Again, Bruce glanced out of the window, eyes focusing on the vast front lawn of Wayne Manor. “It’s inexcusable on my part for so many reasons. But my biggest regret is not focusing more on what you were _not_ telling me. On what you were _not_ saying. I know you well enough to know that your snarky jabs are meant to cover up something that hurts.” His eyes found Jason again. “I can see now that you were hurting _me_ because _you_ had been hurt and you thought I could take it. You were hurt by what Penguin did to Willis and you had already shot Cobblepot ...” Bruce held up his hand just as Jason opened his mouth to retort. “I know... _appeared_ to shoot Cobblepot . But you were still upset with Willis and since he was not around, I was the father easiest to take it out on. So instead of _telling_ me about everything that was happening, you just kept _pushing_ me. And I was all too willing to oblige. I’m really sorry, Jason.” 

Jason huffed and stood up, pacing the room. Even in his apology, Bruce kept pointing out what _Jason_ did wrong. Bruce kept saying how Jason wanted to hurt _him_ and Jason kept pushing _him_. Those charges ate at Jason’s insides. He couldn’t stop his righteous anger from spewing out. “It wasn’t just the beating though. You know, you said some really awful things too, Bruce!” He stopped in mid-step, whirling around to point a finger. “You said you were a fool for ever believing in me...why would you even...Do you know how much that stung?” 

Bruce stood up, too, but his feet remained planted to the floor. Despite himself, his tone came out defensively, “I realize that I shouldn’t have said...” 

“But you did!” Jason accused. “You said that and so much more! You attacked me like I was a criminal...like one of the worst villains you’ve ever faced. And then, you brought up how you told me if I ever left it would be _my_ choice, not yours. **_My choice_ ** ...you turned those words around on me...if I ever left, it would be my choice...but it wasn’t!” Jason grimaced as if holding something back. He took a few seconds to compose himself. “When I was a kid, you said those words to a scared boy who thought that he would be thrown out...back out to the streets the very second he goofed up or made one wrong move. Those words had been an assurance that nothing... **_NOTHING_ ** I did or could do or even would ever do, would ever cause you to kick me out...that you would never give up on me and you would never stop loving me. I would always have a home with _you_ .” Jason’s hands fisted at his sides. His voice boomed, “You offered me unconditional love, but then you yanked it back! And you have the _audacity_ to claim I’m the one who’s choosing to walk away?” 

“I’m sorry, Jay...I don’t know what else to say...what I can do to...” 

Shaking his head, Jason gave a little heartless laugh, interrupting another one of Bruce’s awkward apologies. “That night...after Roy came and got me...in my painkiller induced sleep and stupor, I had a dream. You, Wonder Woman, and Superman were all trapped in the Batcave with the Joker. He was beating you to death with a crowbar.” Jason rolled his eyes and tapped his head. “What the subconscious can think up, huh?” 

“Jason...” Bruce reached a hand out. 

Jason ignored it and continued, “Roy, Kori, Biz, and Artemis came bursting through to save the day. And then I came in last. I saw what the Joker was doing to you and I blew him to kingdom come. I killed the Joker to save you...to save everyone.” His voice began to break and he was barely able to whisper out the rest. “I tried to apologize to you...for killing...for breaking your one golden rule. Do you know what you said? You said not to worry about. You thanked me. You called me _Son_ and I called you _Dad_.” Jason’s lips trembled and tears slid down his cheeks. “You let me down, Bruce.” 

Bruce’s face was pale and sorrowful. He nodded his head and quietly forced out, “I know, Jason.” 

Jason heaved in a shaky breath. “I don’t hate you. You’re still my dad. I love you, Bruce. But I don’t know if I can ever _trust_ you...” 

Bruce took a few shuffling steps towards Jason. His eyes were now noticeably wet and red-rimmed. “Jaylad, I’m so stupid and foolish and I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve any of you.” 

Jason swiped at his tears, only to feel fresh ones replace them. “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to yell or lose it.” 

Bruce finally closed the gap between them. He drew Jason into his arms and hugged him tight. “Don’t apologize. I deserved every bit of it. I needed it.” One of Bruce’s hands cupped the back of Jason’s head. He spoke tearfully into the younger man’s ear, “I love you, Son. I’m so grateful that you still choose to call me Dad. And your home is and always will be here. Always. I promise.” 

And Jason wanted to believe him... 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason talks to Wingman.  
> Essence shows up.  
> After a few steps back, Bruce and Jason take another step forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavily leans and uses dialogue from RHatO Comics #'s 34, 35, and 46. However, a good bit of comic canon divergence happens, so there's a bit of a twist.
> 
> Sorry for the delay. This chapter didn't come easy. Also, I'm a mother of two young kids, a wife and my hubby just had surgery, and I'm a teacher that is preparing to go back to a very different school year. So this fic may slow down to a turtle's pace...or a sloth's. LOL! Anyway, I'm enjoying writing this! I hope everyone is enjoying reading it!

Chapter Nineteen 

Jason felt drained. Between his breakdown on patrol and the emotional conversations he had that morning and afternoon with various family members ( _mainly Bruce_ ), his body and mind were numb and overly tired. All he wanted to do was go to the Iceberg Lounge, collapse on his couch, and nap with Dog curled up next to him. If only his secret safe room apartment in his office was already completed, he would be able to lock himself away from the entire world for a few days. Unfortunately, that was not an option. Sometimes being an owner of a casino and actually being a part of a family again was such a drag. 

As Jason stored his bike into the garage of his safehouse, he texted Wingman to bring a car to come pick him up. He had about half an hour before his bodyguard would show up, so Jason went upstairs and took a quick shower and changed into fresh clothes. He grabbed a bag with his Red Hood uniform and a few other items for the next few days. By the time Wingman messaged that he was waiting downstairs, Jason felt a little better and more like himself. 

Sliding into the backseat, the young man let out a sigh. 

“You okay?” Wingman asked, glancing back at Jason in the rearview mirror. 

“I guess, Wing,” Jason mumbled, gazing out the window. He really didn’t want to have a conversation. He just needed quiet for a little while. Was that too much to ask? 

“Wing,” Wingman whispered to himself, as if savoring a new flavor. The bodyguard drove another block before asking, “Can I ask a question that’s been bothering me—since the moment we met?” 

Jason turned his eyes back to meet the older man’s quick look in the mirror. Apparently, a quiet car ride _was_ too much to ask... “Fire away,” he answered, flatly. 

Wingman seemed to hesitate, as if picking up on Jason’s sour mood. The man licked his lips and shrugged before continuing, “We didn’t have the greatest of starting points...I tried to force you back to Gotham, even tied you to a chair and fought you. But you’ve never held that against me. You even gave me a job...protecting you.” His eyes flicked back into the mirror again. “You don’t even know my real name. You’ve never even asked it! How do you know you can trust me?” 

Jason frowned and stared down at his hands. _Did_ he trust Wingman? _Should_ he trust Wingman? He knew that Bruce was uncomfortable with him allowing a complete stranger into his inner circle. Maybe Bruce was right. But Wingman had been nothing but openly loyal to Jason. There was not one moment that Jason had ever felt threatened or wary of his bodyguard. _Trust_. What a funny little word...yet, it held so much... 

“I like to keep things simple, Wingman,” Jason said, bringing his own gaze back up to meet the older man’s hazel eyes. “I’ll trust you until you give me a reason not to. Betray me, and I’ll kill you.” Silently, Jason added, _Okay, maybe not kill...but you’ll wish you were dead._

Wingman visibly swallowed and firmly gripped the steering wheel, his eyes focused firmly back on the street ahead. “That’s fair,” he responded softly. The rest of the ride was quiet. However, when Wingman parked the car near the private boat dock, where the Iceberg’s yacht was waiting, the older man turned in his seat to give his boss a pointed stare. “Look, Boss. I know that I asked you to come back to Gotham...that the city needed you...and you needed this city. But it could be I was wrong.” Wingman turned his eyes away for a few seconds, as if searching for his next words. “Maybe...you don’t need Gotham...maybe you would be better off somewhere else...anywhere _but_ here...it’s a big world, you know?” 

Jason closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. He shrugged, “Maybe.” Then he exited the back of the car and stood out on the sidewalk, placing his hands in his pockets. What was he doing here? He thought things were getting better. But now...the weight of everything that had happened over the last few months just seemed to be hanging so heavy over him...ever since last night...ever since he had lost control over memories of Willis... 

“Boss?” Wingman asked from behind Jason. 

An eerie feeling encompassed the younger man. It was one that Jason only ever got when he knew danger was around him. But the street was empty. It was just Jason and Wingman. He eyed the other man, wondering over this new apprehension. “I’m good.” Jason started toward the gangway. “Need some time alone to think. See you at the casino.” 

“But Boss,” Wingman began to argue, reaching out to grasp Jason’s bicep. “You want me to captain the ship?” 

Jason stilled. Tamping down the instinct to lash out, he glared down at the older man’s hand around his arm. “I want you to rethink what you are doing with that hand,” he spoke in a quiet, yet steely tone. Batman would’ve been impressed. 

Wingman immediately let go. “Sorry, I just...you’re not acting...I’m concerned. It’s my job to make sure...” 

“I’ll be fine. I promise,” Jason said, his expression smoothing back out. He waved the older man off. “Take a water taxi. I just need some time, okay?” 

Wingman nodded and let the argument drop. He stood on the dock watching until Jason guided the yacht out into the open water. 

*** 

Steering the yacht out toward the Iceberg Lounge, Jason rolled his shoulders trying to release the tension that had built back up with the uneasy feeling that had overwhelmed him at the dock. Something just felt...wrong. He had never sensed danger in the sole company of Wingman in the past. Why now? Was it the discussion about trust? Had that subconsciously put Jason on alert...a higher awareness? 

Rubbing his eyes, Jason tried to shake his gloomy mood. What was wrong with him? 

As if wanting to match his melancholy state, a heavy fog swept across the bay and encased the yacht. Jason had been so deep into his own dark thoughts that he was taken off-guard by a familiar presence. “Essence,” he breathed out with a slight hint of irritation. He cut the engine and began to lower the anchor. 

Essence appeared like a phantom from the fog that had gathered on the bow of the boat. Jason walked out of the captain's cabin to join her there. 

In one hand, Essence held her weapon, the Blood Blade. With her other hand, she reached up and cupped the side of Jason’s face. “Jason,” she greeted, her voice sad. “I don’t know if I should kiss you or kill you.” 

Jason’s eyes narrowed at her. He was not sure what had brought about this particular visit, but he was pretty sure it was not going to be a pleasant one. “Why do you have to choose?” he snarked. 

An annoyed and hurtful glint flashed through her eyes. Essence let her hand slip away from his cheek. “You joke. But you’ve lost your smile.” 

“Why are you here, Essence?” Jason inquired, already tired of the situation. 

“Mother...she saw your future...what you are planning. I am here to stop you,” Essence stated grimly. 

Jason blinked at that. He didn’t even know what he was planning to do...what he would do... “Ducra sent you? Did she think I wouldn’t fight you? That I would just follow you home to the Thousand Acres of All?” 

“Actually, this was my idea,” Essence stated. “I had to convince her.” 

“So, what exactly are you stopping me from?” Jason inquired, tilting his head in puzzlement. 

Essence began to circle around him, twirling her blade in anticipation. “You are the Chosen One. You were supposed to be the One to lead us against the Untitled...to defeat them once and for all. You were the lone human to master the art without perishing or going insane. You left and the Untitled have flourished.” Tears welled in her black eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jason.” 

“I’m not worried,” Jason threw back. “And I never asked to be the Chosen One.” 

Essence gave a frustrated huff as she prepared to attack. 

Jason called up the All Blades and felt himself enter the astral plain, as he faced off against the first soul he had truly connected with after his dip in the Lazarus Pit. A part of him would always love and care for Essence. At a time in his life when rage and hate filled his heart, she brought him peace and love to counter it. They shared everything...hurts, disappointments, dreams, desires, and their mutual attraction for each other. If anyone could have kept Jason from leaving the All Caste, it would have been her. But his necessity for revenge and the madness of the Pit were too much... 

“The fact that you feel no shame about your failure,” Essence ground out, as the Blood Blade manifested into two blades, one in each of her hands. “...lends credence to the argument that my mother was wrong to take you in...to teach you our ways.” With that, she rushed forward, blades rushing down in an effort to deliver a scathing blow. 

Jason brought up the All Blades, easily blocking her. Knowing Essence, he could get her to become off-balanced by using her hurt and anger against her. He could take advantage of her emotional rollercoaster. “Maybe she just saw more in me than she saw in you!” Jason sniped, breaking free of her and then swirling his blades in an intricate pattern, putting on a bit of a show. 

Essence skidded back, her own blades held wide at her sides. “Are you seriously trying to make me jealous? Of you?” she questioned with a bitter laugh. “I have never wanted to lead the All Caste. You above anyone know that! I am a soldier...heart and soul.” She sent out a manifestation of her soul through the Blood Blade...a dragon that could capture Jason’s soul and trap him within her blade. 

Jason dispersed the manifestation with a swift slash of his own weapon. “Yes, you are a soldier. Your warrior heart is one of the many things I have always admired about you. We really don’t have to do this,” he pleaded. 

“You broke her heart when you left.” Essence’s face twisted in grief. “You broke mine!” 

“I’ve broken a lot of hearts...including my own,” Jason admitted, lowering the All Blades. “Maybe I will come back one day...and I promise to fight the Untitled as I come across them...as I have done.” He stepped closer to Essence, allowing his expression to soften. “But don’t try and force me. You know me too. Better than almost anyone. I don’t do well with orders or ultimatums.” 

“I’m so angry with you!” Essence shouted, tears now escaping her eyes. Her fists tightened on the hilts of her blades, yet she made no effort to strike. 

“I know,” Jason nodded. “I know you are. And you have every right to be angry with me.” The astral plain faded from sight and left them both on the bow of the yacht again. He watched as Essence fell to her knees, her blades dropped from her hands as she cradled her face and began to sob in earnest. Jason approached her and knelt down. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Please don’t cry,” he begged, his voice cracking slightly. “You know I can’t take the tears.” 

Essence gave a half-sob half-laugh. She reached out and grasped Jason into a hug, burying her face into the crook of his neck. He slid his arms around her and patted her back gently. “You will betray us,” Essence murmured against him. “S’aru showed me. He helped me to call Mother’s spirit and she told me your future. You have become a traitor to the All Caste.” 

“S’aru? That conniving, meddlesome, little...” Jason hissed. “He called _me_ a ‘traitor?’ He’s the treacherous one! You can’t trust him, Essence. He loves to mess with any poor soul that happens to cross his path!” 

Essence pulled back. “You are not working with the Untitled?” 

“Do you think I could weld the All Blades if I were one of the Untitled?” Jason questioned. 

“I suppose not,” Essence acknowledged, as she wiped her tears away. “I’m sorry for thinking you had become evil, Jason.” 

Jason smiled back at her. “You wouldn’t be the first.” 

“I should have known better...especially since S’aru was involved.” Essence moved so that her back was to Jason and leaned against him. He settled down and wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. They sat silently together for a few minutes, both letting their minds wander over the _what ifs_ and _could have beens_. But there was no going back. Essence would never leave the All Caste and Jason had chosen another path...for now. 

“Jason?” Essence stirred and turned her head to glance over at him. 

“Yes.” 

She twisted fully around, placing a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Did you know that S’aru kept a memory from you?” 

Jason blinked down at her. He thought back to the few times he had been around S’aru and everything that had transpired during those interactions. “He kept my most cherished memory.” 

“You let him?” Essence asked. “I don’t understand. Why?” 

He shrugged. “I think I was tired of being hurt. I kept thinking that it would hurt to remember when my life was so good...and how that was all taken away...that I lost that life anyway, so why try to remember it.” 

“What about now? Would you like it back now...since you are in a better place?” 

Jason stared into Essence’s black eyes. “You know what it is...he showed you!” 

“I asked,” Essence confessed. “I thought it might help me draw out the evil inside of you...to make you remember the good. I didn’t know S’aru kept it...that you left it with him.” 

Jason hummed. “I am in a better place now. It might not be as painful.” 

“You are making amends with your family?” Essence questioned. 

Chuckling, Jason answered her. “Yes, I am. I suppose this memory has to do with them?” 

“With two of them,” she expounded. 

“I suppose I would have to find my way to S’aru in order to get it back,” Jason mused. The thought of recalling this withheld memory both troubled and excited him. 

Essence’s face lit up and she smiled brightly at him. “Not necessarily! I am capable of sharing it with you since S’aru gave it to me!” 

Jason smiled back at her. Maybe this is what he needed to drag himself out of his depressed mood...a cherished memory... “Okay then. Let’s do this!” 

*** 

Batman had just sat down at the computer and was researching a few open cases he needed to follow up on during patrol tonight. He could hear Robin and Spoiler mildly arguing in the background. Something about which of Alfred’s baked goods was the best. He silently thought Alfred made the absolute best oatmeal cookies, chocolate chip a close second. 

His personal cell phone on the counter buzzed. It was a notification of a message from Jason. Batman drew in a big steadying breath. Even though Bruce and Jason had hugged and come to an okay place after their discussion early, he knew that the younger man had left the manor in a very disheartened frame of mind. The hurt and anger over Batman’s part in the Penguin incident had overtaken the conversation, which was supposed to be about searching for answers to Artemis and Bizarro’s disappearance. 

Holding his phone in his gloved hand, he hoped that their rocky father/son relationship was not taking giant steps in the wrong direction. He tugged the cowl back off of his head and rubbed a hand over his face. Of course, Bruce would never know if he didn’t read the message. With a slightly trembling hand, he swiped the message opened. 

Jason 

_Do you remember that time I had the flu?_

Bruce stared down at his phone. He remembered two times that Jason had gotten the flu. Once in his first year as Robin and the other time just a few months before Ethiopia. 

Bruce 

_Which time? The first one or second one?_

Jason 

_I got the flu twice?_

Bruce 

_Yes_

Jason 

_Were you not giving me the flu shot? I would’ve thought that Alfred would’ve snuck it in at some point_

Bruce 

_You got strain B._ _Vacc_ _is for strain A and sometimes can be effective against B. You beat the odds both times...in a bad way_

Jason 

_Sounds like my luck_ 😏 _Which time did you skip patrol to stay home and watch a movie with me?_

Bruce 

_I stayed home both times. First time we watched a movie. Second time we were both sick and Alfred read to us in the library. He made all the different voices._

Jason 

_I just remembered that time you stayed and watched a movie. I miss times like that with my dad_

Bruce stared down at his phone. He missed those times too. Maybe...just maybe... 

Bruce 

_Me too. We can skip patrol again...sick or not._

Jason 

_I’ve got a big entertainment center and some popcorn._

Bruce 

_Be there in an hour_

*** 


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman visits Zorbatos again.  
> Dick and Jason run into another unresolved issue from their bumpy past.  
> Some answers to the Wingman mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been longer than a minute! I'm a teacher and a mom, so life has started to pick up a bit since school started back up.
> 
> Remember it's a sliding timeline (some pre-52 and post-52 stuff mixed) and I've made up my own very loose backstory for Wingman.   
> Also, one warning...there is one mention of suicidal thoughts, nothing descriptive.

Chapter Twenty

Agatha  Zorbatos entered her office and sat down at her desk. She rubbed her temples and sighed. For the past twenty minutes, she had been seeing floaters in the vision of her one eye, a clear sign of an impending migraine. It had been a long and tiring day. A contraband raid in Cell Block H had produced over 170 banned items among the inmates, over half of the confiscated things could be used as lethal weapons. It was unacceptable. Clearly the guards in that block were either incompetent or taking bribes. Whatever the case,  Zorbatos would need to look into hiring new guards.

As she leaned forward to grab a file on the edge of her desk, she noticed a shadow stepping out of the far corner of her office. Her hand went immediately for her taser.

“Warden,” the shadow greeted.

She huffed, only relaxing slightly. “Batman,” she greeted coolly. “You know, there are other ways of contacting me or scheduling a meeting.”

Batman’s lip curled up just the tiniest bit, but he stayed silent on the matter. Instead he asked, “Have you found anything on the cases of the dead inmates we discussed, specifically Willis Todd’s death?”

Zorbatos frowned. “Reed Hamilton seemed to remember a few things. He was hesitant to talk at first, but I assured him that no one would trace this information back to him, even if I had to somehow take the fall myself. At the time in question, Hamilton had two co-workers that confided in him about an underground trade—very top secret, a hush-hush government deal. They were a bit too open about their knowledge of the operation and were suddenly transferred out of state overnight. When Hamilton contacted these co-workers to find out what happened, it seemed they were suddenly silent about it all. These were family men and Hamilton suspected that some threats were made regarding their wives and children.  So, he kept his mouth shut and dropped the matter.”

Batman hummed at this information, nodding to show he was following along.

“Anyway,”  Zorbatos continued. “Hamilton says he remembers hearing that the Government was working with Lex Corp, running experiments on meta-human genes. Apparently, Lex Corp was finding ways to turn average people into  _ ‘super-soldiers’  _ for the Government in order to engineer an army of meta-humans. They used prison systems throughout the country to supply their test subjects, including  Blackgate . Willis Todd fits into the timeline and the description for the prisoners Lex Corp was looking to recruit.”

“Recruit?” Batman questioned.

Nodding in the affirmative,  Zorbatos answered, “It was on a volunteer basis, offered to prisoners on death row or with life sentences.”

“In other words, with little to lose,” Batman supplied.

“Yes. Also, these volunteers needed to have little to no family or connections that would question a faked death. The Government promised early release or a transfer to less restricted facilities. The only catch was one had to survive the experimentations.”  Zorbatos closed her good eye and rubbed her temples again. “I don’t know if this is an on-going project. I do know that  Blackgate is not providing any more guinea pigs.”

There was a soft  _ “thank you” _ and rustling of fabric. When she opened her eye and glanced around the room, the warden found that she was alone.

***

As the rolling gate slammed shut behind him, Jason fidgeted with the sleeve of his leather jacket and shifted his feet nervously.

“You okay?”  Nightwing questioned in a whispered voice.

“Yep,” Jason answered a little too quickly, eyes roaming the front entrance of Belle Reve.

Nightwing studied his younger brother, who was dressed in his Red Hood uniform except for the red helmet. Instead, Jason was wearing a simple black domino mask, which was far less conspicuous. Red Hood was still considered to be an outlaw in certain circles and Jason was extremely wary of Amanda Waller, who was sure to be skulking around Belle Reve. Waller had already tried to recruit Jason to join her Suicide Squad on several occasions. However, Jason was not inclined to be anyone’s “lap-dog” as he put it. He would take his chances as an outlaw on the run.

When the news of Wally West’s transfer to Belle Reve reached  Nightwing , he  _ was _ worried that his speedster friend would be forced to work for Waller. But Batman assured him that the Justice League had made it known that Wally was off-limits to being used in such a capacity. His sentence was short-term...only a year...six months in this facility for counseling and observation, followed by six months house arrest with continued counseling and a schedule of community service. Then Wally would be free to either continue as a hero or retire to a quiet civilian life...the choice would be left up to Wally alone.

As Jason continued to suspiciously eye the chain-linked fence and barbed wire surrounding them at the gated entrance,  Nightwing placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Jason flinched at the contact and growled, “I’m fine.”

“Okay,”  Nightwing said, letting his hand fall away. “You just seem a little tense. You know you don’t have to come in with me. It’s okay for you to stay out here.”

The heavy iron doors clicked open with a buzz. Jason stalked through with purposeful steps. With a sigh,  Nightwing followed closely behind. They paused in front of a glass window, where a security guard inquired about weapons or other prohibited items. After being scanned by another guard,  Nightwing and Jason moved on into the main hallway, where they were escorted toward a large visitation room.

As they walked in sync together several steps behind the guard, Jason spoke softly, “I just don’t like confined spaces, with guards and bars. I’ve had...bad experiences. This just reminds me...of a lot of terrible things.”

Nightwing glanced over at his brother. “Are you...are you talking about...?”

“Arkham?  Blackgate ?” Jason snarled under his breath. “Yes, if you care to know. Arkham and  Blackgate were pretty bad experiences. So yes, iron bars, chain-linked fences, and barbed wire around enclosed spaces with armed guards tend to bring up some sour memories.”

Nightwing missed a step, and then he took two quick ones to catch back up to Jason’s side. He reached out and grasped his brother’s elbow. “Hey, now wait a minute,” he said, speaking in a hushed tone, not wanting to alarm their security escort.

“Let go,” Jason hissed, continuing to trudge down the hall while trying to extricate his arm without causing a scene.

Nightwing did let go, but said, “Jason, it’s apparent that we have something that we need to discuss...” Looking around at the doors and bars they were passing, he added, “Perhaps not here and now...but we do need to talk about...about my part in your incarceration.”

This time, Jason did come to a complete halt. “My incarceration,” Jason repeated, in a dull tone.

Nightwing frowned unhappily. “We both know that I messed up royally with Tim and also you, when Bruce was...gone. I’ve had a hard time sorting through my own feelings since you’ve been back, Jason. I’ll admit that. We didn’t have the greatest of brotherly relationships before...”

The guard ahead of them had stopped and cleared his throat. “Gentlemen?” he questioned politely, motioning that they should all continue down the hall.

Jason ducked his head and muttered, “Wally’s waiting and like you said, this is not the place.” With that, he turned and walked down the hall.

***

Wingman watched as construction started on the office area of the Iceberg Lounge. His employer was expanding the safe room and installing state of the art technology. It made sense. After all, Jason Todd lived a double life as a vigilante with a secret identity. The young man had loved ones to protect, not to mention his employees here at the Iceberg.

Smiling to himself, Wingman could not help but feel pride in being a part of that exclusive group of hired help. He took his job as Jason’s bodyguard seriously. To place his own security and comfort at risk in order to ensure the safety and well-being of the young man, was in a way penance for Wingman’s past sins...sins that he could never truly be forgiven or cleansed from committing.

It had taken being imprisoned and forced into sobriety behind bars that had caused Wingman to realize how horrible of a person he had been...an abusive husband and an even more monstrous father. At rock bottom, he received news of his wife’s death. His little boy had been sent to live in a foster home. Months later, the boy ran away and disappeared for almost two years. During that low time, Wingman had almost given up completely. If it had not been for a kindly priest who encouraged the imprisoned man to turn back to the faith of his Catholic upbringing, he would have ended his miserable life. 

He began to read the Bible, attend the weekly Mass service in the prison’s chapel, and earnestly work with the prison’s therapist on his anger issues and addictive tendencies. He even began to enroll in educational classes and volunteered his limited free time to programs such as repairing old bicycles to give to underprivileged children. Slowly, his life was beginning to have meaning, really for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Then, Wingman got word that his little boy was at a boarding school for wayward boys. Oddly enough, he knew exactly what kind of “school” it was and the lady that ran it. She went by Ma Gunn and she taught young boys how to survive on the streets of Crime Alley by running gangs and becoming crime lords. Wingman knew all of this because he had been one of her students...her star student...until he got hurt in a heist gone wrong.

A bullet had found its way into his upper right side and pierced his lung. His desperate friends had grabbed a fourth-year surgical intern taking a smoke outside of Gotham General and forced her to remove the bullet and patch him up. Sheila was a blonde-haired, blue-green eyed, spit-fire of a young lady. She had grown up in Burnley, just outside of Crime Alley. Her family was hard-working, blue collared stock. In fact, Sheila was the first one to go to college and get a degree. She was opinionated and unafraid, even when held at gun-point and forced to work in an ill-lit grimy kitchen in a small apartment, saving the life of a delirious thug. 

Wingman was not so delirious as to demand that his friends release the young doctor unharmed. She had after all kept him breathing...kept him alive. Several weeks later, he found her leaving the hospital after her shift. He gave her a bouquet of flowers and his thanks. Something sparked between them. Soon, they were sharing more time together.

And then, Sheila told him that she was pregnant.

Pregnant...but she did not want to be tied down with a family. She didn’t want a child. Wingman was not overly religious in his youth. But he was Catholic. He begged her to keep the baby. Sheila agreed. During those first few months, Wingman hoped she would change her mind...that Sheila would love him enough to get married and raise their child together. However, by the fifth month of pregnancy, it became apparent that Sheila planned to leave both the baby and the father in her past and move on.

Wingman was facing life as a single dad with a newborn and no steady income. He buckled down and took to selling “products” across from Gotham Academy. Rich kids and their party habits, right? It was a great location with a steady income. Before long, a sweet, shy brunette caught his eye. Catherine was a senior from a well-to-do family. She was intelligent, a straight A student, loved to read, and was all set to go to Gotham University on a great scholarship.

But Catherine had unfortunately developed a taste for addictive drugs. It wasn’t bad enough yet that she could not function without a hit, but it was enough that she craved weekend highs. Wingman became her favorite dealer, then her favorite guy friend, until finally he was her secret older boyfriend.

By the time summer rolled around, Catherine had decided that she would rather be with her boyfriend than go to Gotham University. Her family was livid. If she wanted to live that kind of lifestyle, she was not welcomed in their gated mansion home. In August, when his baby boy was born, Wingman brought the child home to a rundown apartment and his very sweet and naïve teenaged girlfriend.

Catherine had been wonderful with the baby, if not a bit clueless. The little boy had to be hospitalized several times because of common illnesses left unchecked and a dilapidated apartment with little heat and lots of mold. But the baby survived to become a toddler and then a young child. Unfortunately, Catherine slid further into addiction and Wingman found an addiction of his own at the local bars. Alcoholism was a bane in the Todd family lineage. It was an evil that was not easily shaken.

So, it was no surprise that Wingman had fallen prey to its clutches, which eventually led to mistakes, that placed him in the crosshairs of Oswald Cobblepot. Wingman had been set up to take the fall for a crime that he did not commit. It was ironic really. Wingman was guilty of a lot of things and deserved imprisonment. But he was innocent of what finally put him away with a life sentence.

It was in that imprisonment, after he found out his little boy was now living at Ma Gunn’s school, that Wingman was presented with an opportunity that could change his life. All he had to do was allow the guards to fake his death and deliver him to a secret government van transport. He would be taken to an undisclosed location, where he would undergo experimental genetic alterations. If he survived, he would be given his freedom along with a pension for his troubles.

Wingman accepted the offer and wrote his son a few letters, in hopes that one day...

His thoughts wrapped back around to the present. Wingman drew in a deep breath and then smiled again. One day, he hoped he could tell his son face to face how sorry he was for everything. He was sorry for not getting Catherine clean, for not finding an honest job, for becoming an alcoholic, for being abusive, for being so stupid and taking the bait that  Cobblepot had dangled in front of him. He was sorry for not being the dad that his son needed...but he was there now. He was there to make up for all of his wrongs. Even if Jason didn’t know it...Willis Todd was there, watching his son’s back. 

***


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Jason have that long overdue talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some warnings...mention of child abuse (sexual) and rape. No details. Just mentioned.
> 
> Also, Bruce's message in italics comes straight from the Battle for the Cowl comics.

The visit with Wally had been too short and extremely awkward. The speedster didn’t take long to pick up on Jason and Dick’s strained interactions. Jason had either pointedly ignored Dick or glared daggers at him. Dick had sat with his shoulders sagging and hurt puppy dog eyes that dared glances at his younger brother. After fifteen minutes of observing this behavior, Wally had finally asked what was going on, which led to Dick apologizing for making the visit  _ uncomfortable and anything less than relaxing _ . Jason had then mumbled something to the effect of  _ what did Dick think prison visits would be like...an afternoon in the park? Prison visits were never meant to be fun and relaxing. But Dick wouldn’t know that, now would he? _

In the end, the two quarrelling brothers left after barely an hour visit. Wally was relieved. As he watched Jason walk out the door of the visitation room, Wally shrugged at Dick and said, “Maybe you two should visit me at different times.”

Back in the Batwing, Dick sat down in the pilot’s seat with a heavy sigh. Jason was already occupying the copilot’s chair, slumped down, eyes turned to look out of the window opposite of Dick.

“You know, we really could’ve made that visit a lot more pleasant for Wally,” Dick grated as he started up the engine.

Jason just grunted.

Dick felt his patience wearing thin. “Okay, why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Jason muttered.

“Do this?” Dick waved his hand up and down indicating Jason’s current slouching position. “You were fine when I mentioned going to see Wally a few days ago. In fact, you even acted excited about it. And now, the day of? You suddenly turn into Oscar the Grouch and are hating on me for something that happened two years ago!”

Jason’s only response was to slide glaring eyes over at his brother, his lips clamped down in a pout.

“Seriously, Jay! I know we need to talk it out...that’s apparent. But why would you choose today, of all days, to suddenly despise me and start something? I thought you wanted to work everything out! Well, messing up a visit with my best friend who needs me is not the way to do that!”

Jason’s eyes narrowed even more at Dick. After a good long stare, Jason turned his head away again and let out a huff.

Dick released his own exasperated groan and moved the Batwing to take off and head for home. He could have put the advanced airplane on autopilot and relax, but he needed something to do...something to keep his mind occupied and give him an excuse not to deal with his angry brother next to him. He allowed himself to enjoy piloting through the air space, in and out of the clouds, fields and communities far below. He allowed himself to imagine about the lives of the people who lived in these rural towns and small cities. He thought it might be nice to settle down in one of those places and just live an easy life. But then he thought about standing on top of Wayne Tower and leaping into the night air. He tried to imagine his life without the thrill of the chase, without helping those in need, without the rhythm of a city dancing on the edge of danger. He thought about his hodge-podge family and friends...vigilantes and superheroes that he would never be able to live without, to leave behind...

“I’m sorry.”

Dick blinked out of his thoughts at hearing the quiet apology. He peered over at Jason, who was still slouched over and turned away from him.

“I made today about me...” Jason’s eyes finally glanced at Dick, before staring back out the window again. “It should have been about Wally and making sure he was okay. I’m sorry.”

Dick regarded the younger man. “Jason...”

“Don’t, Dick. Just...don’t.” Jason sat up straighter in his seat and eyed the other man. “Despite what you may think, I’m not angry at you for Arkham or Blackgate...at least not for my arrest and the reason I was sentenced there.”

“But I...” Dick started before being interrupted.

“You did your job,” Jason stated firmly. “You did your job, Dick. I didn’t give you a choice.”

“I did a terrible job. If Bruce knew half of the mess-ups I made while he was gone...” A bitter laugh escaped Dick’s lips. “Whatever possessed me to think I would make a good Batman? Huh?”

Jason shook his head and let out his own rueful chuckle. “Better you than me.” His expression became serious again. “My anger at you doesn’t come from being sent to Arkham and  Blackgate . I. ..I wasn’t okay back then. I know I did some really terrible things and I wasn’t really able to comprehend or control all my actions. I needed to be stopped. And you did that.” Jason’s hands fisted in his lap and he turned his face away again. “But I am angry at you...at everyone for what happened after.”

“After?” Dick questioned. “What do you mean by that?”

Jason swiveled back around facing his older brother, open hurt on his features. “What did you do today, Dick? Huh? What did you do? You went to see your friend who is in prison to make sure he’s okay. To visit with him. To be there for him.”

Realization dawned in Dick’s eyes as he sucked in a breath. “You’re angry because I didn’t do the same for you,” he stated softly.

“Not just you. Everyone...everyone left me to face all of that alone. Not a single one of you bothered to come see me or check in on me. Not one person in our so-called family. Not Alfred. Not Barbara. Not Tim. There was no communication of any kind. Not a card. Not a phone call. Not a visit.” Jason’s eyes sparkled with bright green flecks in the sunlight filtering in from the plane’s windows. “Bruce was the only one to come visit me when he got back. And I’m not sure if he would’ve even done that had I not requested a transfer to  Blackgate .”

“Jason, you’ve got to understand, for us to visit you would have compromised all of our identities,” Dick argued back.

Jason rolled his eyes and huffed. “Oh please! I’m not an idiot! I know you couldn’t come as Richard Grayson. But we’re the freaking Bats! If any of you really had wanted to see me or get in touch, it would have happened.” He swallowed hard. “I just...I look back and I wonder how different things might be if...if someone would have just...made the effort to reach out. Not on a rooftop when everything was down, and one of you said ‘ _ let us help you, Jason.’”  _ Jason mimicked Batman’s deep raspy voice. “No, I’m talking about a true effort.” Jason’s eyes watered, but he held back any tears. “Why wasn’t I worth helping then? And what’s different now?”

Silence sat solidly between them for a long time.

“I don’t really know what to say except that I’m sorry.” Dick’s eyes held sincere regret within their depths. “I know that’s not really adequate, but I am deeply and truly sorry, Jason. We haven’t been there for you when you’ve needed us the most.”

Jason nodded his head. “I know. And I realize that it was not an easy time for you...for any of us. Losing Bruce...complicated things with all of us. I know it’s what caused me to lose control again...to try and prove that I’m not a failure.”

“You’re not,” Dick answered back.

Jason scoffed, “You’re not the one Bruce has called his ‘ _ greatest failure _ ’ over and over again. He even left it on his little holographic final farewell to me.”

“I think you’ve been misunderstanding what he’s said. You’re looking at it wrong.” Dick waited for Jason to make eye contact. “Bruce isn’t calling  _ you _ a failure. He’s calling his own actions to protect you, to provide you with a safe and secure future, to save you from all the heartaches and tragedies you’ve had to face...he failed to do that  _ for _ you.”

Jason stared down at his hands, clasped together in his lap. He allowed himself to roll the thought around in his head for a while. “You really think that’s what he meant...in that message...he...he said...”

Dick reached out and placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “We both know how terrible Bruce can be with words and actually conveying what he means in the right way with the right tone. I’m positive if you ask him what he meant by that message, Bruce would tell you that it’s his failure to help you, not the other way around.”

Jason gave a soft huff, his face softening slightly.

Allowing his mind to drift back to the messages that Bruce had left his family members when everyone had thought him dead, Dick remembered Jason’s very violent reaction to hearing the private message Bruce had recorded for his second son. It had sent Jason spiraling out of control, fighting Dick and Tim for the Bat’s cowl. Dick had played the message to an enraged and craze driven Jason, who was dressed in a lethal modified Bat suit. Dick had hoped to help his brother confront whatever had hurt so bad in the holographic message, but Jason continued to delve even deeper into outrage and despair. What was hidden in that message? What was Dick missing in those last words...

_ Two years ago... _

_ Bruce’s image had appeared with him dressed in the Bat suit, with the cowl pushed back, revealing the man’s handsome features. His expression was serious, but held a light of concern in his eyes. His voice was soft...softer than Dick had heard coming from the man in years...as the man addressed his wayward son... “Jason, by now you’ve been told of my death. And you’re probably surprised to be invited back to the cave. But like Tim and Dick, I’m leaving you the one thing I can’t give anymore. Advice. _

_ “Of all my failures, you have been my biggest. I take full responsibility for your wayward and self-destructive path in life. You were broken and I thought I could put the pieces back together. I thought I could do for you what could never be done for me, make you whole. _

_ “What happened to you as a child...the terror, the pain, the horrors. But that  _ **_ secret  _ ** _ is one that neither of us should have kept. You needed repair, and instead I gave you an outlet to act out on. For that, I apologize. _

_ “But it’s not too late for you to get the proper healing you never received. It’s not too late for me to help you. It’s time for you to stop what you are doing. Alfred knows of a brilliant doctor who...” _

_ Jason had attacked, cutting the holographic feed off and ending the message. _

Dick took a deep breath and plunged ahead, before he chickened out and let the moment slide. “That message from Bruce...I’ve been meaning to ask you about it, but it’s never been brought back up or seemed like the right time to talk about it. Bruce said something else...something about a secret, something that was done to you as a child...” Glancing over at his younger brother, Dick noticed that he had stiffened and paled considerably. “What happened, Jay? What is it that the rest of us don’t know? How can we help you if we don’t even know what’s wrong to begin with?”

Almost a full minute ticked by with Jason staring off, emotions warring within his eyes. Then suddenly, he shook his head and forced a fake smile. “You know my story, Dick. Poor kid. Found my mom dead from an overdose. Good for nothing dad in jail. Ran away from the foster system and lived on the streets for a few years. Just your typical Crime Alley kid traumas. No big deal.” He shrugged. “Bruce was probably right that I should see a doctor about it, but I took my meds at Arkham and had a few  heart to hearts with the doctors there. I’m good. Really.”

“Nice try, bro, but none of that is a secret,” Dick stated. He watched as Jason’s pseudo smile fell from his face and how the young man seemed to shrink into himself. “Whatever it is, you know I won’t think any less of you, right?”

“As if that would be a  possibility ,” Jason mumbled.

“Jason...” Dick started to admonish, but stopped when the other man held up his hand.

“I ran away from my foster home because...I saw the man in that home raping one of the other foster kids...it was a girl around my age.” Jason’s eyes glazed over as he continued, “I didn’t stick around to see if he liked little boys, too. But even though I had a pretty crummy apartment with my parents, I never really lived on the streets...I had never been without a roof over my head or something to eat, even if it was just a can of soup or ramen noodles or crackers. I had never been homeless or starving. And I was so naïve and stupid. When an adult treats you nice...offers you food and a warm bed after a week of freezing cold nights with nothing but scraps found in trash cans filling your belly...well, you forget that you can’t trust anyone...that there are monsters who prey on vulnerable kids. It’s  kinda ironic that I probably would have been better off staying back in that foster home. Even if that foster dad was into boys too, at least I would have had a warm bed and food every night.”

Dick’s eyes widened at those words. He felt his own face drain its color. “Jay?”

Jason blinked over at his older brother. “I don’t really remember how many times it happened...no more than a handful I’d guess. But it did happen.” A brief melancholy smile graced his lips. “When Bruce took me in, it was easy to pretend it didn’t happen. I was able to separate that past from myself. But then every time we came across a rape victim, every time we confronted a pedophile, it would bring it all back up...I would crack just a little bit more, knowing that it was happening to others and there was nothing I could do about it. What we were doing just wasn’t enough. Then I started to crack when I was reminded of my mom...every overdose victim, every drug dealer would set me off. That turned into alcoholics and abusive men, like Willis had been. And soon, I wasn’t holding back my rage and Bruce didn’t know what to do with me anymore. I knew he was trying to figure it out. I knew he just wanted to help me, but I was too wrapped up in my own pain and hurt...and then Garzonas happened and I found out about Sheila...and that pretty much sealed it.”

Dick sat with his mouth agape, brows low over troubled and watering eyes. Finally, he was able to stutter out, “Oh my gosh, Little Wing, I’m so...”

Closing his eyes, Jason growled, “Just don’t do  **_ that _ ** ! I don’t want your pity or your guilty looks! Just stop it!”

“It’s not  pity ...hurting for someone you care about is not pity,” Dick clarified. “And the  _ guilt  _ I feel __ over this is that it’s taken this long for me to find out what you had to go through as a kid. Jason, that answers so many questions and clears up everything I couldn’t understand about why Bruce was so protective of you back then, even when I didn’t think he should be. Why he just excused so much of your attitude and actions...But now...now I know and I wish I could go back and be the big brother you needed...a brother that was there in your corner, protecting you from all the evil you had to endure.”

“Yeah, well, now you know and I’m trusting you to keep it to yourself. I don’t need everyone trying to protect me. I’m a grown man and I’m fine. I’m over it,” Jason declared, eyes hardening.

“I don’t think that’s something you ‘get over,’ Little Wing.” Dick gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. “And I’ll keep it to myself. I promise, what happens in the Batwing, stays in the Batwing.”

Jason rolled his eyes and glared at Dick. “Really? That’s so lame.”

“That’s classic!” Dick shot back, voice turning lighter.

“No, it’s not.”

“Okay, what would you come up with?” Dick challenged.

Jason grinned and made gun hands toward his brother, clicking his tongue. “Dead men don’t talk.”

***


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait! I'm still not 100% sold on this chapter, but it does move us forward a bit. As for the story as a whole, I know where it's going and I have some scenes for future chapters...it's just the stuff that happens in between that I have to write. Slow going and I'm sorry for that! Anyway, here's another chapter and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Mentions of multiverse travel and some Countdown to Final Crisis stuff.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jason stood frowning at the zeta tube in front of him. He nervously looked back at the rest of the Batcave. Alfred was dusting away at the various trophy cases. Tim and Damian, already dressed for patrol, bickered quietly as they poured over a file displayed on the large screen of the  Batcomputer . Dick and Barbara were sparring...and flirting. It made Jason want to gag.

Turning back to the transportation device, Jason heaved a sigh. Batman had asked Jason to meet him on the Watchtower to discuss the disappearance of Artemis and Bizarro with a few Leaguers experienced in multiverse travel. Even though Jason had stayed on the Watchtower during his recovery in the med-bay and he had visited Wally a few times in the holding cells, it had been a long time since Jason had actually gone to the floating satellite station as an invited guest...as a heroic vigilante. He was...

“Nervous?” Dick asked from behind his brother.

Jason barely stopped himself from startling. “No,” he replied flatly.

“You seem to be,” Dick quietly shot back.

“I just...to most of them, I’m still some sidekick gone wrong in the head...a hero gone rogue. It’s awkward,” Jason muttered.

“I doubt Bruce has called in the entirety of the League for this,” Dick stated, trying to allay the younger man’s fears. “It’s probably just Ray Palmer and Barry Allen and Ted Kord...maybe Superman? I’m sure it won’t be more than a handful of Leaguers.”

“It’ll be a handful too many,” Jason sighed again. He squared his shoulders and faced back toward the zeta tube. “Might as well get this over with. Just keep telling myself it’s for Artemis and Bizarro, right?”

“Right,” Dick answered with a pat to his brother’s shoulder. “I could go with you, if you need someone to be in your corner...besides Bruce.”

Jason turned to look at Dick. “Would you?”

“Yeah, just let me get my suit on,” Dick said, waving at his athletic gym wear.

“If Grayson is going as support, Todd, I would like to accompany you as well.” Damian stepped up beside Dick, crossing his arms and placing a very determined look on his face.

Cassandra dropped down from somewhere in the shadows above the zeta tube, landing with a soft whoosh of her cape. “I will go.”

“Look, I appreciate...” Jason started to protest against needing a whole herd of Bats following him around like he was some vulnerable child...

“Well, I’ve always found discussions on interdimensional travel and the multiverse fascinating. I might as well tag along and learn all I can from the experts in the League,” Tim stated, excitement evident in his eyes.

“But...” Jason barely got the word out, when he was  interrupted again.

Barbara came forward, pulling on her gloves. She placed a hand on Jason’s arm. “Do you really think that we would just sit here in the Cave and let you face this alone?”

“Well, quite frankly, yes,” Jason answered, a bit frustrated over his siblings’ reaction. “I mean, none of you have ever really...”

“Grayson told us how neglectful we have been in our support of you in the past, Todd,” Damian announced. “We think it best to remedy our past behavior.”

Jason blinked at that. He glared over at Dick. “What happened to  _ what happens in the Batwing, stays in the Batwing?”  _ he questioned hotly.

Dick threw up his hands in a defensive move, walking backwards toward the locker room. “Hey, I didn’t say anything about the more private stuff! I just mentioned that perhaps we  haven't always been there for you in the past. That you’ve had times in which you’ve felt abandoned by us as a family.” He made gun hands and clicked his tongue, smiling mischievously back at Jason. Then he dashed inside the locker room door.

Allowing the built-up tension in his shoulders to deflate, Jason breathed out a steadying breath. “Okay.”

“ So, you’re okay with all of us tagging along?” Tim asked, hopefully.

“Do I have a choice?” Jason questioned, only a tinge of irritability in his tone. He shook his head and said, “Whatever. Still, I don’t think Bruce will be okay with all of us showing up,” Jason grouched.

Everyone looked sheepishly around at each other and then they all shrugged their shoulders in a nonchalant way.

“What’s he  gonna do?” Dick finally spoke up, voice muffled from within the locker room. “Knowing Bruce, he will want to give the impression that he  _ knew _ we were all coming. Otherwise, it will look like open mutiny or outright disregard for his authority and we all know that Bruce hates to look like a push-over in front of the League.” He emerged back out into the cave, now fully dressed in his  Nightwing gear. “He’ll play it off like it was part of his plan.”

Tim snickered, “That’s true!”

“Father does feel the need to keep up appearances in front of his colleagues,” Damian supplied, even as he moved toward the zeta tube. “I suggest we make haste. Otherwise, we risk Father contacting Todd and discovering our plan.”

Jason shook his head and waved his siblings forward. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

***

_ Two hours later... _

Red Hood gripped the arms of his chair and clenched his jaw. He was so over this meeting. It was hitting the two-hour mark with very little progress. Ray Palmer, Barry Allen, Ted Kord, and Michael Carter with his robot Skeets had been going in rounds talking about dimensional travel and using vocabulary out of Jason’s comprehension. He felt frustrated and more confused...more at a loss about what to do for Artemis and Bizarro. 

At least he was not the only person who seemed out of his element. A small sketch pad had materialized in front of Robin, who was busy scribbling away. Orphan was leaned over watching Robin draw. Every so often, she would point out something and then study Robin’s expressions, a silent conversation just between the two of them.  Nightwing caught Red Hood’s eye a few times, shrugging and shaking his head. Red Robin and Batgirl had started out asking questions, but soon fell silent as the Justice League scientists and time travelers delved deeper and deeper into their exchange. Even Superman seemed a little lost in the current discussion, as he constantly checked messages on the tablet in front of him, possibly working on an article for his day job.

And Batman...well...who could tell what was going on with him?

Quite frankly, Jason had zoned out a good half-hour ago, almost sure that he would walk away disappointed without having any answers. However, when he heard Ray Palmer say that he would be willing to travel through the multiverse, visiting the most likely destinations in which the missing pair might be, Jason snapped back into the conversation.

“I’ll go with you,” he stated eagerly. 

“Absolutely not!” Batman growled out.

Red Hood glared back at the Dark Knight, anger radiating off of him. “What?” he questioned sharply.

“I’m not allowing you to go traipsing all over the multiverse on some needle in a haystack search,” Batman declared.

Nightwing grimaced at Batman’s use of words. “B, maybe you should...”

Red Hood suddenly stood up and slammed his hands down on the polished conference table. “Allow?” The young man snorted bitterly, “What gave you the idea that I need your permission to do  _ anything _ ?” He took a few calming breaths before continuing, “It’s not like I haven’t done it before, you know. I’ve traveled the multiverse more than  _ you  _ and probably more than most the people sitting in this room, Palmer being the exception.”

Ray Palmer nodded his head and turned toward Batman. “Hood is right. He does have experience in dimensional travel. As I recall, he handled it well...physically speaking. Not everyone can do that.”

Batman sat quietly digesting that information for a few heavy seconds. Then he repeated in a flat tone, “Physically speaking.”

This time  Nightwing , Red Robin, and Batgirl gave a collective groan, knowing exactly what direction this meeting was taking...it was going south in a hurry.

“Batman, don’t...”  Nightwing spoke, trying his best to steer everyone back to safer territory.

“Don’t what?” Batman asked hotly. “Don’t ask if Hood was able to handle dimensional travel on a psychological level? Don’t ask if his emotional state wasn’t negatively affected while traveling through the multiverse?”

“Wait, what?” Red Hood rasped out.

Nightwing held out his hands toward his angry sibling. “Let’s not take things...”

“No!” Red Hood stepped back, pushing his chair back, letting it roll away. “No, let’s hear it, Old Man! Let’s hear how mentally unstable I am! Go on and share it with the rest of the group!”

Batman stood to his feet, voice matching his son’s volume. “That’s not what...”

“Enough,” Superman finally roared, rubbing his temples. “Both of you sit down and reign it in!”

Neither man moved, both staring hard across at each other.

“Do it or I’m calling Agent A.”

Two sets of eyes turned to lock onto Nightwing.

After a few more beats, Red Hood reached behind him and yanked his chair back toward the table. “That’s playing dirty, ‘Wing,” he muttered as he sat back down.

Batman slowly eased himself into his seat as well. He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly before saying, “Jason, I’m sorry for how I voiced my concerns. You are not mentally unstable. I just...I don’t want to see you hurt by...hostile versions of us that exist in other worlds.”

Scowling at his mentor, Red Hood crossed his arms. Things had been good between them. Jason and Bruce had been spending time together, truly enjoying each other’s company. They had been building back trust. Even right now in the midst of an argument, Bruce was trying and offering an olive branch by apologizing and rephrasing his words. The concerns were valid. Red Hood knew that first hand. He had seen and dealt with hostile Batmans out in the vast multiverse. But he was still angry and felt petty enough to spit out, “I’ve already run into hostile versions of you, right here on our own earth. So, I don’t see the problem.”

“Come on, man,” Red Robin muttered, giving his sibling a glare. “I thought you two were trying to work on moving past all that.”

“We are,” Batman said in a tone that was much more subdued and quieter than earlier in the meeting. “Jason is right, though. There are times I have reacted poorly...my actions towards him have not always been as a father or a mentor. I’m sorry for my past, often violent behavior.” He looked across at Red Hood and stated, “I’ll support you in whatever you decide.”

Red Hood swallowed visibly. He did not know how to respond to that very honest and quietly spoken confession. He stared up at Batman and then slowly nodded his head. “Okay. I appreciate that...and I do understand what you are concerned about. I do know that there are worlds...earths that have different versions of us...and those versions are not always...” He searched for the correct words and finally settled on, “...easy to like.”

Batman hummed his agreement.

After a few moments of silence, Batgirl held up her hand, drawing everyone’s attention. “Okay, I say that this meeting has run its course. We’ve established that we need a small group to travel and seek out Bizarro and Artemis. Ray has some probable destinations in mind. Let’s break. Let everyone digest that information. Give it some thought as to who the travelers should be...weighing in schedules and responsibilities and expertise. Then we can meet back in a few days and discuss the specifics and itinerary of the trip.”

“I agree with  _ Oracle _ ,”  Nightwing said, with a grin. Then he let out a chuckled, “OW!” when Batgirl lightly punched his arm.

The relief that overcame Superman’s face was evident as he said, “Sounds great! Let’s meet back on Friday afternoon.”

Everyone but two people got up from the conference table and headed toward the double doors exiting the room. Red Hood and Batman remained in their seats, both looking across the table at each other.

“Bruce? Jason?” Red Robin stood at the door, glancing back in at the men.

“It’s okay, Tim,” Batman answered in a tired voice. “We’ll be along shortly.”

“You sure you guys are okay?” Red Robin asked, pointedly directing the question to Red Hood.

Red Hood gave an appreciative, small smile back to Red Robin. “We’re fine. See you back at the Cave.”

Tapping his fingers on the door, Red Robin nodded and then turned to leave.

As the doors shut, Red Hood squared his shoulders and said, “Okay, let’s hear it, Old Man. What’s bothering you so badly?”

Pushing back the cowl, Bruce eyed his son with weary eyes. “I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. I. ..trust your judgement on this. I mean it. I will support you, no matter how you proceed here.”

Removing his domino mask, Jason leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table. “Look, Bruce...I know you’re uncomfortable with all this. But I  _ have _ done this before  _ and _ these are my friends...my teammates. I’m responsible for them. I need to go. That’s all there is to it.”

Bruce nodded and conceded, “You’re right. I would do the same.” Turning pensive, he added, “We’ve never talked about it... your traveling through the multiverse with Donna Troy and Kyle Rayner. You’ve never said what you saw...what you experienced when you were searching for Palmer. Maybe it’s because I never asked. But I always assumed it was not a good experience for you. I assumed you experienced painful things and you didn’t  _ want _ to discuss it.”

Jason sat back in his chair and frowned. “There was a world, where you...well, that world’s Batman lost his Jason and in turn killed the Joker. But he didn’t stop there. He pretty much killed all of the worst villains. He accepted me and I became his Red Robin. I thought I would stay...it was like...it was like having my old life back...with us getting along and no bad blood between us. No Joker laughing at us in the background.”

“Why didn’t you stay?” Bruce asked quietly.

Glancing away, Jason tried to hide the tears that gathered in his eyes. He clenched his jaw for a moment as he got a little more control. “He died...and then his world was destroyed.”

Bruce hummed. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it. Finally, he hesitantly  said, “ I’m...sorry.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Jason sniffed, “It’s not like it’s your fault.”

“I’m sorry that you were inclined to stay...that you don’t feel comfortable...at home here on our earth,” Bruce said in a soft tone.

“It hasn’t been all bad,” Jason admitted with a slight grin. “Bruce, I know you love me. I know you see me as your son. I love you, too. You’re my  _ dad _ . If I would’ve stayed there...if that Batman would have lived...I don’t think it would have lasted. He wasn’t  _ you _ . He wasn’t the man that took me in and gave me a home and a family.” Jason leaned forward on the table again. “ _ You _ are the one that did those things and  _ you _ are the one that I want to have as my dad.” Shaking his head, he added, “I know the Pit did a number on me and messed up my head in more ways than one. And now a few years out from its influence and Talia’s manipulations, I can see that what I was asking you to do in the name of revenge was wrong. For me to blame you and ask you to go against your own convictions...to kill the Joker...I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

“I wanted to kill him. I tried,” Bruce said so quietly, eyes staring off in the distance.

“What?”

“I tried to kill him.” Frowning, Bruce added, “Well, it was more like letting him die along with me. If Superman hadn’t been there, I would’ve died and I would’ve made sure the Joker died, too.”

“Bruce? Are you telling me...?” Jason started to ask in a shocked voice.

“I wouldn’t call it suicide. I was not actively trying to kill myself,” Bruce clarified. “I just wasn’t too concerned about my survival. And if I wasn’t going to live, he certainly wasn’t going to live either. I was going to make sure that Joker could never hurt anyone else again. But Superman intervened and I eventually realized that killing Joker would have either killed me with guilt or turned me into a much worse person.”

Jason looked perplexed. He sat back in his chair with a loud exhale of breath. His eyes roamed the room, conflicting emotion swirling in their depth. “Why didn’t I know this? Why didn’t someone tell me?”

“Nobody really knows, except Clark. Maybe  Alfred suspects what happened. But I never told anyone,” Bruce confessed.

Studying Bruce’s face, Jason allowed himself to swivel his thoughts around, to view his death from another perspective. “I guess I forget that life carried on for all of you after I was gone and that you were all grieving. And even after I woke up and after the Pit, all of you still had no idea that I was even alive. I’m sorry for not realizing that...”

“No, Jason,” Bruce interrupted. “No. Don’t apologize. It’s okay. You don’t owe me an apology for my grief. You don’t owe me an apology for how I reacted to your death or for what happened after you came back. None of that is on you.”

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Jason smiled over at Bruce and said, “Maybe there really is hope for us, huh, Old Man?”

Bruce smiled back. “I think there could be.”

As the two men stood and walked out of the conference room together, Jason could not help himself as he said, “So what you’re really saying is that I should redirect all my anger towards Superman...”

“ Jaylad ,” Bruce started to admonish, but then in an instant changed his tone. “Well, I guess that’s probably true...I mean, it’s not like you can hurt him with regular bullets...”

“I’ve got a stash of Kryptonite, you know.”

“What?!?”

Jason snorted. “You don’t think I just left all of that hoard for Black Mask untouched, do you?”

All Bruce could do was close his eyes and groan.

***


End file.
